


If I Stay

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Slow Burn, Walk in the clouds Au, me entertaining me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: Harry and Louis agree to a temporary arrangement that Harry can't seem to walk away from no matter how many times he tries.





	1. Chapter 1

Constantly checking the Uber app for his estimated time of arrival isn’t going to make Harry’s driver get him to his destination any faster, but with the way traffic is dragging at the moment, he’s more likely to miss his train home than to actually make it.

“Um. Excuse me,” Harry says as kindly as possible to the man behind the wheel softly singing along to Bon Jovi and who just let a perfectly good yellow light change to red without him putting up so much as a fight. The man doesn’t appear bothered that half a dozen other vehicles just coasted through the intersection without them. Or that Harry has exactly fifteen minutes left to get his arse on his train or else risk being stuck in Leeds another day with the one person Harry sincerely hopes to never see again. Living on a prayer indeed. “The app says we’re really close so I’m just going to hop out here if that’s alright.”

“Sure, but we’re nearly there,” the driver informs Harry through his rearview mirror. “Train station’s just through these next couple of intersections.” That might actually sound promising if they weren’t still stuck at _this_ one.

“Er- Here’s good, thanks!” Harry replies already out of the car with his duffle bag in hand when his driver bids him farewell.

Harry starts down the street as fast as he can without mowing over the rest of the people making their way to Leeds Station. The traffic light he was stuck behind changes to green again and traffic rushes forward briefly making Harry regret his decision until he sees his Uber driver get caught at the next light as well; an unfortunate occurrence that doesn’t implicate Harry in the slightest as he continues on and ducks into the entrance of the train station.

“ _Shit_ ,” Harry hisses at the clock across the room that reads four-thirty-three. He pulls his creased ticket out of his back pocket feeling impatient once again as he waits to walk through the turnstile. And of course, when Harry finally gets there and inserts his ticket, it’s kicked right back to him. It takes longer than it should have for Harry to straighten his ticket out enough for it to go through, leaving him with just enough time to sprint through the building and locate his platform and make his train with just two minutes to spare.

He’s so relieved to not have to share a car, hotel room, or even the same air as his boyfriend - _ex_ -boyfriend as of an hour ago - that he sinks into the first open seat he sees... which doesn’t actually belong to him he realizes when he blinks up to find a grey-haired couple cross-examining their tickets with the exhausted-looking man and his duffle splayed across seat four _and_ five.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he stands up to give the open seats to their rightful owners. The couple settles in and Harry pulls out his ticket again so he can find out where the hell he’s supposed to be. That turns out to be all the way at the rear of the coach in seat fifty-three, next to a man in fifty-four who’s distant gaze is fixed on the glass of whiskey on the small seat-table before him.

The staring contest between the man and the drink he hasn’t touched looks pretty intense; serious as if the answer to everything lies within its depths. And Harry hates to interrupt whatever’s going on there, but he’s forced to when an approaching train attendant notices him idling in the aisle and asks him to take his seat.

“Of course. Sorry,” Harry says to the woman in the green uniform who passes by and then again to his seating partner, a man who barely even looks up when Harry carefully squeezes past him to the window seat. “Er- So sorry.” Harry shoves his overpacked duffle beneath his seat so it’s out of the way, pausing at the lazily sighed ‘ _Don’t be’_ that’s nearly lost in the sound of the train’s engine whirring to a start.

The voice belongs to Harry’s seat-mate who has now upgraded to taking longing sniffs of his untouched drink rather than just staring at it. It’s definitely peculiar behavior. And frankly, it’s none of Harry’s business what’s going on with the somber-looking man sitting next to him since Harry has his own problems to deal with. Like his phone for instance, which hasn’t stopped vibrating since Harry’s cheating ex-boyfriend realized he really left this time and isn’t coming back. But, even that situation hasn’t driven Harry to drink. Or nearly drink in his neighbor’s case.

“Is... everything alright?” Harry asks gently, not expecting the tiny laugh the man breathes in response.

“Nope,” he answers, though Harry suspected that to be the case.

“Oh. So, um...did you order that?” Harry tries after a long pause, internally rolling his eyes at himself because obviously he ordered it.

“Yep. I did,” the man confirms with a sigh. “The fucked up part is that I can’t even drink it. I’m no longer ‘ _allowed_ ’.”

“That’s too bad. Sorry,” Harry offers after detecting a hint of bitterness from his neighbor on the subject that makes Harry wonder the reason for a ban on the whiskey that this man so obviously loves. Perhaps the issue is that he loves it a little too much.

“I can practically hear you coming to the wrong conclusion over there and no, it’s not alcoholism,” he chuckles darkly, giving Harry a glimpse of his mischievous smile for the first time. “It’s just pregnancy. The drink was just wishful thinking on my part and good imagination.”

“Oh.” Harry blinks at the man, only now noticing the protective hand loosely held against his stomach. “ _Oh_! Well, congratulations!” he beams, his brow furrowing at the less than keen response he gets in return.

“Right,” the man says mostly to himself after a thoughtful pause. “Thanks...”

Harry can’t help but notice that the expectant father doesn’t look or sound very happy. In fact, he seems downright indifferent.

“...That’s _not_ a good thing,” Harry deduces from the disappearance of his grin.

“Depends on who you ask I suppose,” he shrugs. “If it’s my dickhead boyfriend- well, my _ex_ -boyfriend now,” he amends, “then certainly not.”

That doesn’t seem very fair to Harry, but neither does his own boyfriend asking him to move to Leeds with him in the name of a love that died the moment Harry caught him and their realtor inside a vacant flat doing everything together besides viewing it. Naked.

Harry soon learns that the man next to him didn’t uproot his entire life just to walk in on his boyfriend balls deep in someone else before they’d even put down a deposit on their flat, but he did have what should have been the best and most exciting news ever blow up in his face. Leeds isn’t his town either, but he did meet his now ex here about three months ago when he moved here for a job he was hoping to land but didn’t in the end. Money was getting tight so the two of them were going to take the leap and move in together as well, but that was before the ex found out about the baby he wanted nothing to do with and split.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry immediately says to his seat-mate who seems more interested in his drink again than Harry’s sympathy. 

“Eh. I already told you, don’t be. Things didn’t work out between us but it’s definitely for the best. Dev was already a shit boyfriend who could hardly remember to not put metal in the microwave. I shudder to think about his parenting skills.” That makes Harry grin despite the grimness of the situation.

“Leeds; a popular place for catastrophic break ups,” Harry jokes.

“And making babies thanks to low standards and really cheap condoms,” his new friend adds before introducing himself. “I’m Louis by the way.”

“Harry,” he replies, taking note of the beautiful shade of blue smiling back at him. “So, what will you do now, Louis? What’s the plan?” Harry asks, smiling again at the answer he receives.

“No clue, but when I figure it all out you’ll be the second to know,” he teases before adopting more serious tone. “Honestly though, the only real plan I have right now is home, I guess. Back to Doncaster... back at square one.”

Somehow, the man looks more distraught by that than any other part of his story.

“And, I’m guessing this is also bad?” he says, receiving a mumbled, ‘ _It won’t be good_ ’ in return. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t just think. I know,” Louis says humorlessly, back to staring at that untouched whiskey with more longing. “I fucked up. Bad,” he reveals after a weighted pause that makes Harry regret asking something so personal. “I left Doncaster to make something of myself; to do something worth my family being proud of me and all I’ve done is get myself into a giant fucking mess.” Harry doesn’t know Louis’ family. He’s never even met them, but he can’t imagine they’d see it that way. “I didn’t mean to go to Leeds and get knocked up. And my mum won’t kill me for making her a grandmother so soon but the look on her face will when I have to explain that the other father’s some idiot deadbeat she’s never even met,” he says in one big breath. “ _Fuck_ , I wish I could have a drink. _Why_ hasn’t anyone invented nonalcoholic drinks that pregnant people can actually _have_ when their life goes to shit?”

“Um, they sort of already did?” Harry points out making a pair of blue eyes narrow in his direction. “So, virgin drinks are nonalcoholic drinks that technically anyone can have when their life goes to shit... especially pregnant people...”

“But boring nonalcoholic drinks don’t solve any of my problems,” he exclaims. “I still have to go home and explain to everybody that I’m about to be a single dad thanks to my own shit judgement and somebody I never even mentioned to them because I knew there was no fucking future there. He’s long gone now and that alone tells me that he didn’t deserve to know them, but maybe if my family had actually known of his existence, I wouldn’t feel so guilty and awful for springing something like this on them.”

Louis’ problems are much more complex than Harry realized; way more complicated than his own which Harry’s reminded of by his phone still vibrating, though Harry swiftly remedies that by wedging his phone from his back pocket, scoffing and rolling his eyes at the eleven missed calls from his ex before taking great pleasure in shutting the phone off; a quick fix to an annoying situation and a selfish person Harry plans to forget about the moment he gets back home, but it won’t be so easy for Louis he thinks as the magical glass of whiskey floats into his line of vision.

“Well, I’m not sure what that was all about, but you look like you have more use for this than I do,” Louis says nodding first at the black screen of Harry’s phone and then the whiskey. Now that Louis mentions it, a drink does sound perfect right about now. “Go on,” Louis urges, temptingly waving the glass before him. “Might as well since we both know I can’t.”

Harry doesn’t need any more encouragement than that before grabbing the glass and tossing it back to let its contents flow down his throat in one big gulp.

“Now, care to share who it is blowing up your phone that you’re hiding from? It’s only fair,” Louis reasons with his mischievous grin back in full force now that the attention is off him.

“Oh, I’m not hiding. I’m _running_ ,” Harry mutters. “Far, far away from someone I knew better than to trust, and yet, I did it anyway. Dumb.”

“Having a microwave-challenged baby daddy dumb? Or just _dumb_ dumb?” Louis asks making Harry splutter a laugh unexpectedly.

“It was more of an I let my flirtatious realtor and arsehole boyfriend flat shop while I was settling into my new job and then made the mistake of not calling first before finding them passionately breaking in the new hardwood floors of our almost home type of dumb.”

“Jesus.”

“Yep.”

“No, I mean your boyfriend is an obvious idiot, but you’d think a realtor would know better. Hardwood’s a bitch to refinish.” Harry’s forced to laugh again, this time so loudly that other passengers in the coach turn to watch them both cackling. “So, Harry, your turn now,” Louis says once their giggles subside. “What are you going to do? What’s the big plan?”

Like Louis, Harry isn’t very sure but he’s got one or two pieces of the puzzle sorted out in his head.

“Well, Leeds was obviously a bust so my first order of business was to get the fuck out.”

“Naturally, and same,” Louis nods approvingly. “Go on.”

“So, once I get back to Manchester, I’ll-”

“Wait, Manchester?” Louis frowns, craning his neck to read the screen at the front of the coach that lists the train’s final destination as Doncaster. “Then why the hell are you on a train to Donnie?”

“Scenic route? At the time when I bought the ticket, it was my only option since all the other trains with direct routes were full,” he shrugs. “...The time when I bought the ticket, meaning my eighteen-minute Uber ride between the train station and me packing my shit as fast as humanly possible at the hotel.”

“Also understandable,” Louis decides upon reflection. “Okay, so, Manchester. What do you do there?” Nothing as of two weeks ago when Harry gave his notice at his job. Therein lies one of the _many_ problems he faces once he gets back.

“So, when I said I was moving to Leeds, my job back home was kind enough to transfer me to an office there so I wouldn’t have to quit...”

“You mean a transfer to the place where you no longer live as of about eight and a half minutes ago?” Louis interjects after a quick peek out the window at the city shrinking in the distance.

“Yes, that one,” Harry confirms. “Which is why in addition to hastily buying an out-of-the-way ticket home on the way to the station, I also emailed my old job to ask them to transfer me back,” he explains with a wince that he tries to make seem hopeful.

“A second transfer. Right...” Louis recaps skeptically. “And, just curious, but how’s that going for you so far?”

Admittedly, not very well considering all Harry saw before he shut off his phone a few minutes ago were a bunch of incessant, desperate attempts from his ex to get him to come back; no emails whatsoever.

He doesn’t answer Louis’ question because he knows just as well as Louis that getting his job back is a long shot, and Harry hasn’t mentioned the fact that his old flat is surely occupied by someone else by now so he’s now homeless as well as unemployed. _Fuck._

“I-I should’ve stayed. I-I didn’t even think this through.”

“ _What?_ Of course you shouldn’t have fucking stayed,” Louis scoffs. “Alright, we need more alcohol. And by we, I mean you,” Louis decides once he picks up on the very real panic starting to fill Harry’s eyes.

The feeling only worsens when Louis leaves him to go fetch that second drink. Harry swallows it down the moment Louis returns, letting it numb the uneasiness in his stomach.

“Feeling better?” Louis asks a minute later and the nod Harry gives is genuine. He’s still fucked to hell and back and has no clue what he’s doing, but the whiskey makes him care slightly less. “You shouldn’t have to stay anywhere you aren’t wanted. You don’t need that fucking idiot and you’re going to be just fine.” Harry is told, fully believing in those affirmations and in himself with the pair of big blue eyes reassuring him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will,” Harry nods in agreement. “So, I may be out of a job. So what?”

“ _Exactly_. So what?” Louis echoes with a smile.

“This is just a minor setback. Things could always be worse,” he shrugs with confidence.

“Yep. Like thinking you have food poisoning from leftover Thai when it’s really just morning sickness from the baby half a dozen pregnancy tests insist that you’ve been carrying the past six weeks, but this is about you, not me.”

Harry’s not even sure why they’re laughing when they both start up again. Probably because he’s a little tipsy after two drinks and no food, but mostly because he can’t tell which of them is more screwed.

“We’re both fucked,” Harry groans into his hands, snorting when he catches Louis’ muttered ‘ _Clearly, some more than others’_ directed at his own stomach. “God, we have excellent senses of judgement.”

“It’s a shame Leeds didn’t bring us together sooner,” Louis grins to himself before letting out a regretful sigh. “Who knows, we could’ve actually been friends and then maybe we wouldn’t be in these predicaments.”

Harry grins imagining their paths converging at a pub or at that coffee shop he never got to visit. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Well, my house is probably going to be a shit show once I get there and tell everyone the news, but you’re welcome to crash if you want to put off dealing with home a bit longer. Unfortunately, I think I have to face the music sooner rather than later.”

At this point, Harry would take facing Louis’ shit show at home over his own, especially after being warned by his mother multiple times that Leeds was a mistake and his ex was bound to break his heart. Looking back, she was dead-on and reserves all rights to say _I told you so_. And although Louis mum doesn’t yet know the whole story behind Louis’ decision to move back home, from what Harry gathers, she wouldn’t be very impressed with her son’s decision-making either.

Harry should’ve listened, he realizes. And it’s too late to change anything now, however, that may not be the case for _Louis_.

“What?” Louis frowns when he notices the new way Harry’s staring at him and the devious grin taking shape on his face. “Is this you drunk? Because I gotta say I took you for a bit of lightweight, but this is just plain embarra-”

“No, no, no, I’m not drunk. I just have an idea!”

“So, a drunken idea or...?”

Sure, Harry’s skin is a bit warmer than usual and he feels oddly content given the circumstances, but Louis’ missing the point.

“You’re pregnant,” Harry exclaims, earning some interested looks from nearby passengers and a look of confusion from Louis.

“Uh, I believe we’ve covered that already; bun definitely in the oven.”

“Yes, but you don’t look it! Not yet anyway.” Harry can tell by Louis’ expression that he trying to follow here, but can’t so he offers further elaboration. “Okay, hear me out. You said the baby’s other dad is an idiot you never even mentioned to anyone because you were only with him for the time being, right?”

“I believe microwave-challenged dickhead was the phrase used, but yes. Essentially, he’s a knob,” Louis snorts. “Why?”

“Because _I’m_ not!” Harry exclaims, losing Louis yet again.

“ _Not_ the baby’s father? Yes, I am aware of that fact as it’s the main reason I haven’t punched you in the balls.”

“But what if I was? Or at least you say I was.”

Now, Louis seems to be getting on board. “I’m listening...”

“You said you’re scared of letting people down, but what if I go take some of the heat off of you. You bring me home in your ex’s place and then, I don’t know. We stage some big epic break up so that-”

“When you suddenly disappear, _I_ look like the responsible adult who made all the right decisions save for my smart, gorgeous boyfriend who left me high and dry and with a baby on the way,” Louis finishes for him now smiling just as wide and mischievously as Harry. “Holy shit. You’re a genius,” he marvels.

Harry wouldn’t go that far, but if they really work together on this, it could turn out alright on both their sides. Harry would only need to stay with Louis and his family for a little while. Just long enough for people to see the two of them in a loving, committed relationship that’s entirely fabricated of course, but no one besides him and Louis needs to know that.

“Now, _if_ we actually go through with this, keep in mind my family will probably loathe you forever and hunt you down to the ends of the earth. That’s my mum, five younger sisters, and a little brother who shows shins no mercy,” Louis cautions, and the warning definitely carries some weight, but there are ways around that. His family can’t find someone who doesn’t exist.

“So, I’ll go by a fake name for a little while,” Harry grins. “It’ll be fun.”

“This is so insane,” Louis laughs, aiming his bright eyes and smile right at Harry. “And you’d really do all this?” he asks disbelievingly. “For me?” For both of them really. Mostly so Harry gets the chance help someone caught up in a tough situation, partly to buy himself some time to figure out what the hell he’s going to do about his own life. It’s a win-win that can’t be lost as far as Harry’s concerned.

And it’s true that they hardly even know each other, and Harry’s decision-making has been pretty shit as of late, but he’s sure about this. He wants to do it. And plus, hanging out with Louis in Doncaster for a few days makes him less homeless than he was five minutes ago, so he’ll take it.


	2. Chapter 2

The trip to Doncaster only takes about forty-five minutes; a relatively short frame of time that Harry initially dreaded as he was fleeing Leeds on his way to Manchester. Of course, that was the case when Harry was actually heading there. Now, those forty-five minutes seem to have flown by faster than he or Louis anticipated. In fact, Harry is just learning the names of all of Louis’ immediate family members when the train stops to let all its passengers off; Harry, his duffle bag, and his new fake boyfriend included.

Harry winds up in another Uber that takes them through the center of town to the outskirts of it, the whole time being quizzed on things Harry doesn’t have a chance in hell of actually remembering, but he’s trying his best.

“What’s my mum’s name? _Go_ ,” Louis demands.

“Er- Johanna, but people call her Joy.”

“ _Jay_ ,” Louis corrects him.

“Fuck. _Jay_ ,” Harry repeats, silently chanting her nickname to commit it to memory as their Uber stops to let them out at the top of a narrow street that presumably leads to _Jay’s_ -not-Joy’s house.

“Alright, H, new question,” Louis announces as they start walking between the rows of cars and brick houses lining the street. “Who’s older? Daisy or Phoebe?”

“Um... Phoebe? _No_. It’s Daisy,” Harry decides all of a sudden, wincing when Louis rolls his eyes. “Shit. Which is it?”

“Neither of them because they’re identical twins,” he sighs. “Trick question.” With the sheer size of Louis’ family and the very short amount of time he’s spent on this crash course in Tomlinson Family 101, _all_ the bloody questions are trick questions.

“Okay. I got that one wrong, _but_ I know that your two youngest siblings are also twins,” Harry offers up to redeem himself since he’s essentially crashing and burning here. “They’re fraternal; a boy and a girl, _and_ they’ve just turned five-years-old,” he grins with confidence. 

“Wow. Look at you.” It seems he’s finally gotten something right for a change when Louis nods approvingly, though the tables quickly turn when Louis stops them in the middle of the street and smirks. “And what are their names again?”

Harry saw that question coming, and yet he still has to pause and wrack his brain to answer it.

“I know this,” he insists. “Your brother’s name starts with an ‘E’- he’s Ernest. And your sister is... Doris!”

Again, Harry must be doing something right based on Louis’ impressed expression.

“Nice,” Louis congratulates him, continuing down the street. “And the cat?”

“The- The cat?” Harry blinks in confusion, but he only flounders a moment before he notices Louis’ eyes crinkling in amusement from another set-up. “There _is_ no cat.”

“Precisely. And why is that?”

“Because your mum claims to be allergic when really she just doesn’t like them and prefers dogs?”

“So you _were_ listening,” Louis grins as they turn down the drive of a house with white curtains hanging in the windows. “Good. Knowing all that should get you through the weekend with minimal hiccups, but it’s only half the equation,” he warns. “We’ve still got the plan to think about.”

“Right,” Harry nods through the nerves he hasn’t really had the time to address since they concocted this plan. “You and I are together. _Happily_.”

“Happily? We’re fucking in _love_ ,” Louis scoffs. “You know, until later when I put the toilet roll on wrong or you decide you’re not ready to be in a serious relationship or whatever random excuse we use for a break up.”

“And I’m so distraught about it all that I leave without any indication of returning-” 

“Leaving me and our beloved, surprise love child behind that I’ll ‘discover’ I’m having in a couple of weeks-”

“And just like that, you’ve got the pregnancy you always dreamed of save for the nine-month timeline being just slightly off-”

“And nobody laughs at me about getting knocked up by a complete and utter moron who initially thought the pregnancy test I showed him was a thermometer.”

Harry’s brow furrows deeper with every new and frightening piece of information he learns about Louis’ ex. “It’s none of my business, but how the hell did you even wind up with that guy?” Honestly, he can’t even blame Louis for choosing an elaborate scheme over the truth.

“Oh, shut up. And pray it’s not genetic,” Louis mutters as they climb the two steps to his front door. He’s just about to reach for the handle when Harry realizes they forgot one of the key elements to the plan.

“My name. I need a fake one, remember?” Harry says, his brain instantly flooding with cool ones he’d never even consider under normal circumstances.

“Damn. That’s right.” Louis thoughtfully bites at his bottom lip for a moment before suggesting ‘ _Harold_ ’, grimacing when Harry throws out the name ‘ _Hendrix_ ’ at the same time. “Did you just say Hendrix?” he checks. “As in _Jimi_ , the rock star?”

Harry shrugs, grinning at the thought of being called something that cool for a bit. “I think it sounds cool.”

“Uh, yeah. Maybe for dogs and retro guitars,” Louis scoffs. “You think I’m seriously going to tell people I got knocked up by someone who comes from a line of Hendrix fanatics?”

“Cause that’s so much worse than the pregnancy thermometer,” Harry deadpans as the sound of footsteps coming towards them from inside catches both of their ears.

“I’m calling you Harold. It’s closest to your real name and then I can just keep calling you H. End of discussion. Now, shut up and look in love,” Louis whispers, slipping his arm around Harry’s waist as the footsteps grow closer.

“Um, _not_ end of discussion,” Harry hisses right back despite the dull sting he feels at his side. “ _Ouch_! Did you really just pinch me?”

“Depends. Are we really still talking about this right now?” Louis counters over the multiple pairs of feet now running to the front door.

“I’ll chock that up to pregnancy hormones,” Harry mutters. “And, for the record, Hendrix also starts with ‘H’ so we can go with mine,” he tacks on.

“ _No_ , we can’t, _Harold_ ,” Louis grits out through a painful looking smile.

“You mean, _yes,_ we can, _Hendr_ \- Hi!” Harry beams in unison with the man at his side when the door swings open to reveal not one but all seven of the Tomlinson’s also beaming from ear to ear when they realize who’s standing on their front step.

“Louis!” the women who must be Louis’ mother exclaims before rushing forward to wrap him in a crushing hug. “It’s so good to see you! What are you doing here?” It’s a question Louis doesn’t get to answer until each one of his siblings have rushed forward to do the same; the smallest two double-team him by attacking at once. Everybody is so busy celebrating the return of their brother and son that they don’t notice the person Louis’ standing next to until he places his arm around his waist again.

“So, I have someone I’d like you all to meet,” he grins. “This is my boyfriend, Harold St-”

“I’m Hendrix Styles,” Harry introduces himself, stepping forward to shake Jay’s hand.

“Uh- Middle name of course; parents were huge fans,” Louis explains amid a failed attempt to pinch him again. “ _But_ , everyone just calls him H.”

Louis’ family doesn’t seem as shocked by his name as they do by him being there with Louis in the first place, but that doesn’t make Louis’ family any less welcoming as they all exchange looks of excitement before pouncing on Harry to give him the same treatment Louis received the moment they laid eyes on him.

“So _you’re_ what’s been keeping my son so quiet and so busy up in Leeds!” Jay says as she gives him tightest hug he’s ever felt in his life. It’s also the warmest he’s ever felt making Harry miss it when Jay finally lets him go. “I just knew Louis was keeping something from me. I can always tell with him and secrets,” she brags, making Louis chuckle nervously at his side.

If only she knew how intuitive she really is.

“Yep. That’s me... all about the secrets,” Louis confirms before sidestepping his family to get inside the house and successfully change the topic. “So, anyone else hungry? Dinner sounds great because we’re absolutely starving! Right, _H,_ dear _?_ ” Louis says with a pointed look before heading further into the house, where Harry assumes he’s meant to follow. Like, now. Shit.

“Um, yes, dear. Coming,” he smiles at everyone as he awkwardly hurries past them to his boyfriend’s side.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, Hendrix-” Jay begins across the table from the giant lasagna being dug into from all directions, though she’s quickly stopped by her eldest son through a mouthful of food.

“H, Mum. Call him H,” he insists for what must be the fifth time, cutting his eyes over at Harry once again because the name actually stuck.

His mother is as unbothered by Louis’ concern as Harry, fondly rolling her eyes at her son as she waves him off. “Oh alright. I’ll try my best to remember, but _after_ you two finish telling us all about how you met!” she smiles over her glass of wine. “Now, start from the beginning. You said you were on your way home when you first noticed Louis, is that right?”

It’s right in a manner of speaking anyway.

“Um- _Yes_. That’s right! Louis was on my train home one day,” he confirms with a grin at Louis, strategically leaving out that this chance encounter took place _today_ , Harry was actively fleeing the city of their fateful meeting, and that Louis was one-hundred percent fantasizing about diving headfirst into a glass of whiskey due to his own personal crisis... but other than that, everything Harry just said is completely factual and true.

Satisfied with his answer, he too starts in on his dinner, breaking off a decent-sized chunk of lasagna for himself and pausing mid-scoop when he notices seven pairs of eyes still on him.

“So, what happened next?” Lottie, Louis’ eldest sister, urges, blinking at him curiously with bright eyes blue enough to rival her brother’s.

“Er-Next. Right,” Harry says, suddenly lost for words with so many curious people watching him. With initial introductions over, Harry had expected all the attention to shift from him back to Louis, but Louis’ family seems even more intrigued than before. “Right. So, next...” They devised a plan to lie to every person sitting around them in a highly convenient case of interest-convergence. “Next, I, uh- I mean, He, um... _Louis_! Why don’t you tell them, babe? You always tell it so much better than me,” Harry claims, gratefully passing their bullshit story onto him.

“What?! _Me_?” Louis manages between chews, sounding outraged but quickly adjusts his tone and facial expression when he remembers they have an audience. “I mean... yes, of course _. Babe_.” The attention has shifted to Louis and suddenly Harry is breathing a lot easier. After all, Louis will be keeping this story up long after Harry is gone; for years and years to come, so really, he _should_ be the one to craft the details of it. “So... like H said, we were on the same train home a few months ago, and we ended up sitting next to each other. I said something funny-”

“And _I_ said something funny back,” Harry adds making Louis fondly roll his eyes.

“Yes. You won me over with your charming wit alone,” Louis smirks. “Anyway, we talked the whole trip home, we exchanged numbers before we got off the train, and the rest, as they say, was history.” Louis finishes, looking quite proud of himself for that extremely vague retelling of their afternoon together. Until, Daisy, asks a question neither of them anticipated.

“So, wait. You both take the same train home every day and yet you never noticed each other before then?”

Harry opens and closes his mouth a couple of times to answer but thankfully Louis comes up with something faster.

“Er- Well, H was running late that day,” he explains narrowing his eyes at his sister, Phoebe, who points out the irony in that statement since according to her _Louis_ is usually late for everything. “Yes, shocking I know, but I was actually on time for once and poor H didn’t make the earlier train, so he got stuck with me.”

Smooth.

“Not that I minded,” Harry interjects, making Louis jump in surprise when he laces their fingers together on top of the table in full view of everyone. “Best worst day ever.”

It’s a little weird holding hands with someone he’s known less than a day. Their hands are a bit awkward trying to fit together seamlessly without any of the anxious anticipation or practice that usually leads up to it, but Harry assumes they’re believable as a couple. Louis’ family surely believe it based on the audible gushing that fills the room when Louis responds with a sappy ‘ _Same here. Glad he missed that other train’_.

“Oh, you two are precious! And it’s so wonderful to finally meet someone our Louis cares for so much that he wanted to bring him home to us,” Jay smiles looking between them and their linked hands, however the mood in the room takes a sudden dip when Jay turns her gaze to the untouched wine next to their plates. “Now, love, is there something wrong with the wine? Does it taste off? ...I thought it was fine,” she says mostly to herself as she samples some more from her own glass.

Looking around the table, everyone who is of age is either nearly done with their first glass of wine or is already working on their second except Louis of course and also Harry who isn’t drinking out of solidarity though he’d really, really like to.

“I can get you both something else if you’d like,” she tries only for Louis to kindly turn down the offer.

“Uh, no thanks, Mum. I’m okay,” he assures her as he has ever since they sat down to dinner. Harry had reached for his wine the moment it was poured but ultimately passed on drinking it so as not to draw even more attention to the fact that Louis isn’t drinking, which is clearly very out of character for him.

“What if I told you I’ve got some _really_ good merlot,” Jay says to entice her son but he still doesn’t budge.

“Er- Maybe later?”

“But, you love merlot. It’s your favorite,” one of his eldest sisters points out making Louis violently shake his head in denial.

“N-No it isn’t,” he lies. “I’m actually more partial to, uh, _pinot_ these days. Yeah.”

There doesn’t appear to be any pinot on the wine rack on the far-left wall, so Harry assumes nobody in the house actually drinks it making it a safe choice for a bullshit excuse.

“Well, that’s... new,” Jay decides after a long stretch where everyone simply stares at Louis like he’s an alien. “Well, I was saving this bottle for a special occasion, but there’s also beer in the fridge that you’re both welcome to,” she offers with renewed energy. “Oh! And, I think there’s still some champagne left in the freezer from your aunt’s birthday if you’re feeling celebratory.”

Harry’s mouth waters at the thought of any of those options, but like Louis, he schools his face into passivity.

“That’s great, but actually, I’m all set with water, mum. Really. It’s... good. Refreshing,” Louis lies with as much conviction as possible though it’s not enough to convince others. “Mmm. Love water,” he claims, making his point by tossing back half his glass in one swallow.

“Um, since _when_?” Lottie snorts across from them igniting an all-out assault on Louis and his life-long preference for everything _besides_ water. According to his eldest sister, Jay used to have to beg Louis drink water. And bathe in it instead of mud.

“I was _six_ ,” Louis rolls his eyes.

According to his second eldest sister, Louis also vomited once after chugging a whole carton of orange juice.

“I was _twelve_!” he shouts in defense but it doesn’t stop all the giggled stories or Louis’ mother whose face shows genuine concern in response to her son’s new affinity for water when she leans in to whisper ‘ _Lou, sweetheart, are you ill?_ ’

It’s pretty safe to say their non-plan is going to shit. They didn’t really have much of a plan to start with, but everyone paying so much attention to the fact that Louis isn’t drinking wasn’t ideal. Really, it’s just a small leap from Louis’ family thinking he’s ill to guessing he’s pregnant, and maybe that’s why instead of distracting people with more lies and bullshit excuses, Louis grabs Harry by the face for a big obnoxious kiss that’s shocking and unexpected to say the least, but also extremely effective at getting everybody to shut the hell up. It’s also pretty effective at making Harry’s stomach flip from the feeling of a foreign tongue in his mouth, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Er- _Oh_ ,” Harry overhears Jay comment at their display.

“Well, he’s certainly not ill,” someone sniggers when Louis pulls Harry in even closer, determined to kiss his fake boyfriend until they suffocate, or for however long it takes to get the attention on something other than his untouched wine glass.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s much later in the evening by the time Harry gets a moment to himself free from curious Tomlinson eyes, and Tomlinson _tongues_ for that matter. Dinner ended on a slightly weird note after his and Louis’ little snogging session in front of everybody, but things went back to what Harry assumes is normal. Meaning, Jay making tea and fussing over her eldest child whom she hasn’t seen in months, the youngest set of twins chasing each other around the house, and the rest of Louis’ siblings watching a movie while giving each other manicures. Harry was invited to join in and really wanted to, but what he needs more than having his nails trimmed and painted is to read and respond to the email he received from the HR person at his old job that he really wants to get back. 

He slips into the upstairs bathroom and makes sure the door is locked before digging his phone out of his pocket. His inbox is much fuller than usual, but that’s probably to be expected after leaving his office, hotel room, potential new flat, boyfriend, and Leeds itself without warning. He ignores everyone’s emails except the one from Mindy, his old HR director from Manchester who has liked Harry ever since he volunteered to dog-sit her two beagles while she went to Comic Con. Despite Harry’s protestations, she has always claimed to owe Harry for that long weekend spent picking up dog shit. He prays this is the moment she chooses to make good on that promise.

It’s not bad news when Harry begins to read, though it’s not particularly good news either. Mindy says that they haven’t replaced him yet, but his old boss already has started interviewing people. The email ends with Mindy being upfront about the unlikelihood of their company transferring Harry again, but she says she’ll see what she can do and get back to him as soon as she hears anything.

Not too promising but at least it’s something, Harry thinks as he begins typing out a quick email to thank her. However, before he can finish composing it or even hit send, he’s interrupted by a loud banging noise from somewhere downstairs.

The sound repeats and Harry realizes it’s the sound someone banging on a door, not gaining entry to wherever they wanted, and then charging up the staircase at full speed.

Harry’s brow furrows at the heavy, frantic footsteps pummeling down the corridor towards him and growing louder until they stop on the other side of the bathroom door which the person tries to open only to realize it’s locked.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” Louis demands, knocking so loudly Harry fears for the state of the door.

Immediately, Harry does as he’s told, watching the door fly open the moment the lock clicks. “L-Louis?”

“MOVE,” is all the response he gets before Louis sinks to his knees in front of the toilet bowl and empties everything he has eaten into it.

At first, all Harry hears is the painful retching noise coming from across the room, but his ears soon pick up the hurried footsteps of everybody else in the house running up the stairs too. All of Louis’ siblings minus one makes it to them first, each of them looking more horrified than the next when they see their brother hunched over the toilet. Daisy, who must’ve been the one in the downstairs bathroom apologizes profusely when she joins them and realizes what all the banging was about. Their mother arrives a few seconds later, her expression more concerned than anyone’s after she weaves her way past everybody crowded at the bathroom door.

“Lou,” she gasps, but Louis manages to flush the toilet and sit back against the wall so she can’t fuss over him. “What’s wrong?” she asks her son. She receives no answer, so she turns her questioning on Harry instead. “Has he done this before?”

They never discussed this part of the plan. Harry freezes, floundering for an answer that will satisfy Jay without giving Louis away but thankfully, he’s saved from having to come up with something on the fly.

“I’m fine, Mum. I promise,” comes a weak voice from the floor.

Louis looks as awful as he probably feels with his face tomato red either from running or embarrassment. Probably both considering everyone is currently staring at him awaiting an explanation for him puking up his guts.

“You’re _not_ fine,” Jay insists when Louis leans his head back against the wall and shuts his eyes to ground himself. “I don’t understand, Lou. One minute you were perfectly fine and then next you weren’t,” she says to her son. “I mean, it’s not even flu season.”

“I don’t have the flu, Mum. I’ll be alright. Just- Give me a few minutes,” Louis begs, but his mother keeps on talking and theorizing out loud.

“I guess maybe it could’ve been something from dinner, but that doesn’t make much sense either because no one else is sick. And it certainly can’t be from too much alcohol since for some reason you refused to even h- have any,” she breathes, turning first to Harry who doesn’t dare speak and then to Louis who finally cracks opens his eyes, half wincing and half grinning at his mother’s knowing gaze. “Louis. Sweetheart, are you-?”

“Surprise, you’re going to be a grandmum?” he croaks out making everybody exchange careful looks with one another until it’s unanimously decided that Louis having a baby is in fact a _good_ thing; possibly the very best.

Harry can practically feel the relief from across the room when Louis’ pulled to his feet for a tear-filled hug from his mother. He visibly relaxes in her embrace, letting out the huge breath he’s been holding all day amid his siblings screaming about how they’re going to be aunts and their youngest brother gets to be an uncle. 

Their big plan is now officially blown, but perhaps it’s better this way. Everyone is over the moon about the news, though no one is happier than Jay who releases Louis from her arms to trade for Harry instead.

Louis meets Harry’s eyes with apology, but Harry assumes the guilt is more about his untimely case of morning sickness that gave him up rather than his mother squeezing him half to death. “Sorry,” he whispers with a fresh wince which quickly fades when he realizes Jay totally heard that.

“ _Sorry_?!” she exclaims, slackening her grip around Harry to scoff at her son. “I can assure you, you have nothing at all to be sorry for Louis and neither does H,” Jay says, turning her attention back to Harry. “I’m so excited for you both! I can’t believe we’re lucky enough to add you _and_ a beautiful new baby to the family!”

“The- The family. Wow,” Harry laughs nervously.

 _Definitely_ not the plan.

“Well of course you’re part of the family! We were already secretly plotting to initiate you in at dinner but now there’s no going back!” Jay beams, ending their tight embrace for the chance to take Harry by the hand and bring him into the corridor with her. “Lou. Sweetheart, are you okay to clean up while I steal this one for a moment?”

“Er- Sure. I’m just going to brush my teeth and then I’ll meet everyone back downstairs?”

“Perfect,” his mother smiles, releasing Harry to momentarily pop back into the bathroom and give Louis one more hug and kiss to the cheek. “I love you and I’m so, so proud of you, love. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure Leeds was the best choice when you left, but clearly I was wrong,” Jay teases, making Louis awkwardly clear his throat.

“Oh. Um, thanks, Mum. And I love you too,” Louis grins tightly as she leaves to rejoin Harry in the corridor.

“Now, Hendrix, about that morning sickness-”

“H, Mum. His name is H,” Louis reminds her.

“ _H_ ,” she amends before sharing all sorts of tips and tricks to make morning sickness a bit more bearable for his fake boyfriend. “As I was saying, it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better, but don’t worry because it won’t last the whole pregnancy. Well, usually anyway. I got sick with the twins almost every night until well into my third trimester,” she tacks on as an afterthought. And here Harry thought morning sickness was something that happened in the _morning_.

He is so in over his head.

It takes hours for all the initial excitement of the impromptu pregnancy announcement to die down. The news garners a large spectrum of reactions from tear-filled toasts in the happy couple’s honor (non-alcoholic toasts of course now that people know _why_ Louis isn’t drinking) to bursts of laughter and big, warm smiles as everyone takes turns telling cute stories about Louis as a child. It seems they’re all hoping for an endearing little trouble-maker just like him. In fact, everybody in the Tomlinson household is beyond ecstatic about everything going on; about all the big unexpected changes to come. Everybody, Harry notices, except for one unusually quiet member of the family who hasn’t spoken much except to wish everyone a goodnight before retiring upstairs to his room.

Harry follows shortly after, intentionally waiting a bit downstairs to give Louis some time and space to himself, two things that are hard to come by in a house so crowded. He taps softly on Louis’ door just after midnight, hoping he’s not disturbing Louis if he’s already asleep. That may very well be the case as Harry listens for the sound of light snoring or a sleep-heavy voice telling him to come in. However, the door creaks open from the inside after a few seconds, meaning Louis is still up.

“You know you can just come in whenever you’re ready to go to sleep, yeah? We’re a ‘couple’,” Louis reminds him with lazy air quotes before further widening the door.

“Oh. Um, right,” Harry says, stepping into the small room that has probably belonged to Louis his entire life. There are random sports posters peeling from the walls and a couple of old books on a wooden shelf whose worn covers have faded due to sunshine and use. His bags are still mostly packed making the room feel a little empty, but it looks like Louis has slowly started putting things back in their places.

“Need any help?” Harry asks as Louis resumes folding wrinkled clothes he must’ve shoved into his bag today in his haste to leave.

“I’ve got it. But, thanks,” Louis sighs, giving up in the middle of smoothing a series of button-ups he simply dumps into a drawer in the end. He sighs again as he sits down on the edge of his bed, still dressed in his t-shirt and jeans and just as quiet as he was downstairs listening to the never-ending baby chatter. Harry was hoping that a few moments to himself would help slow things down; to give Louis time to process everything that’s happened today, along with the fact that he really is going to be a father, and soon.

“So, I think your mum finally got the twins down,” Harry updates Louis from where he’s standing at the end of the bed. “They’re so excited you’re here they don’t even want to sleep. They even asked if you could stay in their room.”

That forces a grin out of Louis and makes his blue eyes go fond, though the mention of his youngest siblings’ love for him still doesn’t inspire much speech.

“Yeah, they’re great. I’ve missed them too.” Harry follows Louis’ line of vision to the open window across from them, earning another stubborn grin out of Louis when he jokingly asks if he’s about to jump. “We’re on the second floor. Also, pretty sure pregnancy is awful enough without adding two broken ankles to the equation,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

He sighs again, though his right hand subconsciously moves to hover over his lower stomach. Harry can’t help but wonder what Louis feels there when all that’s visible is a t-shirt and a very flat tummy underneath.

“Is it really that bad so far?” he asks, sitting at the edge of the bed as well.

“Not yet. Well, besides all the puking anyway. I won’t be sad to see _that_ end.”

It’s amazing how much of an uproar such a tiny little thing can cause in someone’s body; that _Louis’_ body will continue to change and grow along with his baby’s for the better part of a year. It doesn’t even seem possible, and Harry can’t begin to imagine what being pregnant must feel like, but it’s pretty easy to see that Louis is still frustrated with all aspects of it.

“Want to smell some more alcohol? I think I saw some vodka downstairs,” Harry offers. This time, he doesn’t get much of a grin. Just a tiny flicker of one that seems to take all the energy Louis has left.

“Tempting. But, uh, I think I just want to go to bed.”

“Of course.” Louis has had a much bigger day than either of them planned for him to have, so he probably is exhausted. Harry sure is.

Louis stands up and shoves all the things he has yet to unpack underneath his bed that he looks ready to crawl into any second. It’s big enough for two; for a couple, something that they’re decent at pretending to be but really aren’t.

“Which side do you prefer?” Louis asks at the same time that Harry announces that he’ll be fine on the floor. Louis stops turning back the covers to look at Harry, his brow furrowing at bit at his request before giving a non-committal shrug. “Suit yourself. Give me a second,” he says, crossing the small room to dig an extra set of sheets and an old sleeping bag from the back of the wardrobe. “There’s another duvet in the closet downstairs I can get you.”

“No, this is great,” Harry assures him, already in the process of setting up his makeshift bed. “Thanks.” It’s kind of funny that the red sleeping bag he’s stretching out along the floor is almost identical to the one Harry had as a kid except his was blue, even down to the jammed zipper. There’s almost a sense of nostalgia that comes with getting to use it. Harry is just about to tell Louis that when he grins up from the sleeping bag, however the words never fully form with Louis turned away and absentmindedly stripping down to his boxer-briefs at the foot of his bed.

Rather than being hit with another wave of nostalgia, Harry’s hit with the same feeling of confusing and slightly inappropriate attraction he got watching The Dark Knight for the first time and finding the film’s villain way hotter than he should have. Granted, Harry later realized that he wasn’t pining over The Joker so much as Heath Ledger himself, but still. His brain shouldn’t have even gone there; kind of like it probably shouldn’t be going there right now with Louis for various reasons, though Harry’s having difficulty coming up with any at this given time with Louis’ muscled back and the two little dimples visible above the perfectly round bum in Harry’s direct line of vision.

Louis kicks his jeans to the side and is just hooking his thumbs beneath the elastic of his boxer-briefs to remove them as well when he seems to suddenly remember he’s not alone.

He quickly checks over his shoulder to find Harry intently focused on the sheets he’s now spreading out for himself. Obviously, Louis is most comfortable sleeping naked, however his thumbs leave the waistband of the thin fabric sitting precariously at his hips, leaving so little to the imagination that Harry pretends to find the broken zipper of his borrowed sleeping bag fascinating to keep his eyes from wandering to places they shouldn’t.

It’s an awkward sort of dance with the two of them moving around each other in such a tight space and absolutely not looking at each other half-naked, but they make it work. Eventually, Louis settles down in his bed and Harry into the sleeping bag that’s pretty warm and soft, but not nearly as comfortable as he remembers.

“Goodnight,” Harry says to break the awkward silence that’s been hanging between them most of the evening.

Harry usually needs quiet at night to get any real rest, but right now it’s so silent that he feels distracted by it. Mostly because he knows it’s the result of Louis still feeling understandably overwhelmed. There’s no better time than now to try and clear the air while they’re both stuck in the same room without the danger of anyone listening in.

“...So, Louis... I- I know we hardly know each other, so my opinion about today probably doesn’t mean much. I totally get that it’s not really my place to say anything, but maybe it’s okay that things didn’t quite turn out quite the way we planned?” Everything went completely south, but that’s not important right now. “Because I think maybe you were expecting the worst out of this situation, but maybe tonight your family showed you that you don’t have to and that you don’t have to worry, you know?”

The worst is already over which was just telling everyone that Louis’ pregnant. The details of how he got that way are being intentionally muddied a bit to leave out the dickhead who’s the real father, but at least Louis’ family knows most of the truth, and they’ve been incredible with accepting it so far. 

“Everything’s going to turn out just fine, Louis. I know it,” Harry assures his new friend, his brow furrowing when he hears the shallow rumble of his breathing. “Louis?” he says. “Are you asleep?”

That would be a yes as his question is answered by a much deeper snore so loud he wonders how Louis hasn’t woken himself up. It’s pretty safe to say that Harry’s rousing speech wasn’t quite the burst of reassurance he was aiming to give, but it did have success in knocking Louis out cold so it wasn’t a complete waste.

Now, there’s just the question of how _Harry_ is ever going to get some sleep this weekend since his new roommate snores like a dinosaur roars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update in a week or so :)


	5. Chapter 5

Two days later, Harry is finally getting his turn in the bathroom for the shower he’s been waiting to take all morning when his dreams are dashed by someone charging down the corridor and breezing past him at full speed.

“ _What the-?_ ” Harry frowns at his impatient assailant who turns out to be Louis of course, cutting him off to get to the bathroom first, just managing to slam the door shut and lock it before being violently and loudly sick over the toilet.

Whatever complaint Harry was about to launch for being beat out for the bathroom by yet another Tomlinson dies on his lips because everyone knows morning sickness trumps showers any day. Just like yesterday afternoon when morning sickness trumped Harry taking a piss even though Harry was already in the bathroom with his jeans unzipped.

It’s not Louis’ fault of course that he has to sprint for the nearest toilet at random times during the day. It’s just the baby hormones and Louis’ body trying to get used to them. At least that’s what Jay said during their little ‘What to Expect’ chat a few days ago.

“Louis? Are you alright?” Harry tries in between the gagging sounds coming from the other side of the door, though his polite probing isn’t exactly welcomed.

“Go away! Stop listening!” Louis begs, hardly able to get the last word out before he’s puking again.

Harry should leave him alone like he asked. But, he can’t shut off his ears like Louis apparently thinks is possible, so Harry finds it difficult to just walk away from someone who sounds so awful. “Do you need anything?” he asks when it sounds like Louis is all done. “I could get you some water. O-Or a cool towel,” he offers per Jay’s suggestion, all of which, Louis rejects with a stern and resounding ‘ _NO_ ’.

Typical.

It turns out that Louis’ not quite finished being sick yet after a flush. That means Louis won’t be coming out of the bathroom for quite a while, meaning that shower Harry was looking forward to isn’t happening any time soon either.

“Right. Er- I’ll just come back later,” Harry announces, though he doubts he’s heard over the terrible retching sound his fake boyfriend just made.

It’s nearly half an hour later when Harry finally gets to take a shower. He lets the warm water massage his shoulders and lower back made sore and tight from sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag that wasn’t half as comfortable as he remembered once all the nostalgia wore off.

As of late, his nights have been pretty rough, but he can’t blame the sleeping bag for all of it.

As great and believable as he and Louis are as two loving, devoted boyfriends, they’re not having much luck as temporary roommates seeing as how they’re driving each other fucking crazy. Organization isn’t Louis’ best skill by a long shot. All of his belongings end up everywhere except where they should be. Somehow, his things even mix in with Harry’s despite his duffel being neatly packed and _zipped_ at all times. Each time Louis’ confronted about it, he just turns the complaint around on Harry and complains that he’s too tidy. As if _that’s_ a thing.

They’re complete opposites in almost every way. Harry likes to keep the room warm and cozy, and Louis prefers for them to freeze their bloody balls off. Harry enjoys waking up at a decent hour with the help of his alarm, while Louis hops out of bed and snatches open the curtains the moment the bloody sun starts to rise. Harry needs absolute silence to get any rest, and Louis happens to be the loudest sleeper on the fucking planet. But even that probably wouldn’t be so bad if Louis didn’t snore as well as mumble in his sleep and move around so much during the night that everything on top of his bed gets knocked off and piled onto _Harry_. It’s a miracle he’s been able to get any sleep at all.

After Harry’s late start this morning, Louis’ near persistent bad mood due to perpetually puking his guts out, and the big Sunday family breakfast which required them to engage in stomach-churning levels of affection with one another, they’re not exactly seeing eye to eye on a lot of things. They bicker under their breaths during lunch where Louis eats more of Harry’s soup than Harry because his allegedly ‘smells funny’. A trend Louis keeps up after insisting that he didn’t want any ice cream from the shop down the street, and then proceeding to eat the majority of Harry’s double chocolate mint _and_ manage to spill it on the white t-shirt that one-hundred percent came out of _Harry’s_ duffle no matter how many times Louis says it didn’t. 

_Tonight._ Harry repeats it to himself like a mantra, because that’s as far as they needed to make it in order for their master plan to work, and they’ve made it here; mission accomplished. And since they’re likely to murder each other at any given moment, they probably won’t even have to pretend to break up. Homicide tends to be a clear indicator that a relationship (real or otherwise) is indeed over.

This weekend hasn’t been all bad though. The girls and Ernest are all great, and Louis is pretty cool too whenever he’s not ruining Harry’s clothes or recounting his entire day in his sleep. And so far, Jay’s beyond phenomenal cooking has been the most exciting part of this whole experience. Well, that and the follow-up email Harry gets from Mindy on Sunday evening telling him that his new transfer request isn’t quite official yet, but that it’s looking pretty good.

That means Harry’s still jobless for now, or on a ‘leave of absence’ which is what he and Louis told everyone, but he’s well on the way to fixing that. It also means that later tonight when Harry disappears back to Manchester without a trace, he has more of a chance of getting his old life back the way it was. He can start over without his ex and pretend Leeds never even happened, and so can Louis. They just have to survive each other and stick to this second half of the plan so they can follow it through.

An opportunity for that to happen presents itself a lot sooner than Harry was expecting that evening. Everyone in the house including Harry is still awake and watching The Incredibles when Louis suddenly hops up and sprints up the stairs in a way that has become all too familiar over the past couple of days. Once he’s gone, everybody in the room looks to Harry as if waiting for him to jump up too to go save the day. Even Jay is watching him, giving Harry a grin of encouragement and a look that says he should go check on his boyfriend.

For a long time, Harry doesn’t move and stares straight at the screen. There’s no point in telling everyone that Louis has made it clear that he doesn’t want or need Harry’s help, partly because he’s stubborn as hell, mostly because they’re not actually together. However, the pressures of all his family’s expectations eventually get to him so Harry stands up from the sofa, making a show of stopping by the kitchen for a big glass of water and a few of the mints Jay swears work miracles when it comes to settling an upset stomach. 

Once upstairs, Harry knocks on the bathroom door, rolling his eyes when he’s predictably ordered to go away.

“Aw. Now, you and I both know I can’t just leave you here, _sweetcakes,_ ” Harry coos as payback for yesterday when Louis called him honey-bumkins in front of his little sisters.

He expects for Louis to retaliate by calling him something even worse, however, Harry frowns hearing Louis suddenly gag so hard it sounds painful.

“Louis?” he asks, all jokes aside as the noise starts to resemble choking. “Hey, seriously. Are you alright?” No answer. Just more awful noises that makes it clear that Louis might not be okay. “I’m coming in,” Harry warns.

“ _No!_ _Don’t!_ ” a strangled voice yells in response but Harry ignores it, stepping into the bathroom to find Louis glaring at him from the bathroom floor. “What the hell are you doing? Get out!” he shouts.

So, Louis’ _not_ choking then. But he does look rather embarrassed and angry that Harry is seeing him this way. He doesn’t get to express any of it though before nausea washes over him again and his head is back in the toilet.

Harry politely turns away while Louis’ being sick again and waits until he hears a flush before coming to the rescue like a good fake boyfriend.

“Get out. I don’t want anybody in here,” Louis groans when he glances over his shoulder and realizes Harry is still there.

“What, do you think I’m here to laugh at you for having morning sickness or something? Just let me help you for once,” Harry tries offering Louis the glass of water in one hand and the mints in the other, however both are immediately slapped away causing glass to go shattering across the bathroom tile. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Harry demands. “Why would you do that?”

His questions only make Louis more defensive as he stands and rounds on Harry instead. “What’s wrong with _me_? I told you to leave! What part of that don’t you fucking get?”

Harry blinks back at Louis’ harsh tone. He wonders if perhaps Louis is right in this scenario and that Harry should’ve left him alone. But then, he remembers it was Louis choking that made him storm into the bathroom to begin with and suddenly he’s not sorry at all.

“I thought-” Louis was in trouble. “I was just making sure you’re okay.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need you to!” Louis spits just as his mother rounds the corner.

It was probably the glass breaking that alerted her to their argument. It was that or all the shouting, but either way, she could tell something was wrong.

“What on Earth happened in here?” she frowns taking in the scene before her with her bathroom floor covered in glass and peppermints starting to disintegrate from all the water. “Boys?” she demands when neither of them answers. “What’s going on up here?”

“Nothing’s going on,” Louis says after a beat. Harry figures Louis is about to offer her more of an explanation when he finally stops glaring at Harry to face his mother. In the seconds that follow, all the color drains from Louis’ face and suddenly he’s scrambling for the toilet.

It’s Jay who reaches for him this time, and although Louis tries to get her to leave too, she won’t allow it. She gently combs Louis’ hair back from his forehead and wets a towel to hold at the back of his neck as he clings to the toilet bowl; things he’d never dream of allowing anybody else to do for him. Especially not Harry.

Jay seems to have everything under control and Harry isn’t doing anybody any good by standing around watching so he dismisses himself and marches straight to Louis bedroom to pack up all of his things. This is it. The big fight they needed to warrant Harry making a swift exit out of Louis’ life. And as predicted, they didn’t even have to pretend like they’re at their wit’s end with one another. And now, thankfully, Harry doesn’t have to feel bad for walking out on someone who despite everything, he had begun to consider a friend, which is obviously not the case. It’s like the person Harry met on the train doesn’t even exist anymore.

He double checks his belongings to make sure he has everything since items like the t-shirt Louis is wearing right now have managed to escape his bag in the past. At this point, Louis can have the damn shirt. What’s most important here is Harry finally getting home and his talent for realizing when he’s no longer welcome somewhere. He’s just formulating a plan to go through the back door or use the window to avoid all of Louis’ siblings in the living room when he hears a soft knocking at Louis’ door.

Louis wouldn’t knock so he knows it’s not him.

“H, sweetheart? May I come in for a moment?” Jay asks, making Harry panic about everything in the room that doesn’t line up with the happy little love narrative he and Louis created, like the corner of the sleeping bag sticking out from beneath Louis’ bed for instance or Harry’s giant duffle all packed and ready to go.

_Shit._

“Er- One second,” he calls back, shoving the sleeping bag and his duffle under the bed so that they’re out of sight before opening the door. “Ms. Tomlinson. Hi,” Harry greets her. “Um, what’s up?”

Jay smiles warmly when she sees Harry just as she always does despite the argument she walked in on him and her son having, and despite the fact that she’s only known Harry a few days and treats him more like family than his ex’s parents ever did.

“Can we chat?” she asks.

“Uh- Sure. Come in,” Harry grins back, widening the door for her to step through it, brow furrowing when he realizes she’s alone. “Er- Where’s Louis?”

“He’s in my room; resting, I think. I left him with a fresh glass of water and some of those mints that I’m guessing he wasn’t quite as receptive to the first time they were offered?”

It’s clear he doesn’t even need to answer that when Jay takes his hand and gives it a light squeeze. “Let’s sit,” she says as she leads Harry to take a seat at the foot of the bed. “Now, I know that he can be a handful sometimes,” she begins after a long pause where Harry silently prays that she doesn’t feel the sudden urge to kneel down and peek under the bed.

“Um, who? Louis?” Harry asks a beat late. “ _No_ ,” he insists, but his denial only makes Jay laugh.

“You’re a terrible liar. You and my son have that in common,” she says making Harry’s heart stop until Jay snorts another laugh and Harry realizes they’re thinking about two completely different things. “I just meant that I spoke with Louis too and he also wants me to believe everything is fine.”

“Oh,” Harry nods. “Yeah. We, uh, argue sometimes. Er- But, not a lot though,” he quickly tacks on. Maybe Jay believes him, and maybe she doesn’t. But whether or not they get along every second of every day doesn’t seem to concern her as much as the way Harry’s not meeting her eyes.

“H, I know my son very well. I know that he’s amazing, funny, smart, kind, and that he has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen.” So far, her assessment is pretty accurate based on the Louis that Harry met days ago. “ _However_ ,” she continues with a smirk, “He is also quite stubborn.” Another dead-on descriptor. “He’s incredibly strong-willed, and at times, he seems so independent that he can make the people closest to him feel like he doesn’t need them,” she explains with another squeeze of Harry’s hand. “But, the thing is, he _does_.”

That’s doubtful. Harry was just trying to give him a glass of water so he didn’t choke and die and he nearly flipped.

“You see, even as a child he liked doing things his way and on his own terms,” she continues with a wistful smile. “Never wanted to admit when he needed help or when he was overwhelmed... kind of like now with this baby, but he’ll come around. He always does. He just has to realize that accepting help from people he loves doesn’t make him weak. Especially if the help is coming from someone who cares about him and loves him back just as much.”

Harry forces himself to nod in response to what Jay just said, feeling something heavy rise up in his throat. He and Louis aren’t in love like Jay thinks. Harry’s just here helping out a friend and also himself in the process, but even so, Harry can’t deny the fact that he does care about Louis on some level. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. He suspects Louis wouldn’t have agreed for Harry to stay if he didn’t feel similarly. It’s just so complicated.

“So, like I was saying before. I know that my son can be a handful,” Jay grins. “I know right now he’s moody and hormonal and frustrating and he’s probably trying your patience at every turn... but, I promise he doesn’t mean any of it. He does need you, H, whether he’s honest about that or not. And, I, for one, am thrilled you’re here with him,” she beams. “He deserves someone good in his life, H. Someone like you.”

A kiss gets pressed to Harry’s temple that makes him smile along with the little reminder that the first trimester doesn’t last forever that Jay whispers to him before she leaves.

After she’s gone, Harry’s left all alone with her words, his packed bag, and a stomach leaden with something that feels a lot like guilt each time he thinks of resuming his original plan of walking out of Jay’s house. Nothing Jay just said really applies to him and Louis since they aren’t really together, but that feeling hangs around even after everyone has gone to bed, leaving the front door wide open for Harry to slip through it without being seen.

Three days ago on the train, Louis didn’t ask for it, but Harry could still sense that what he needed in that moment was a bit of help; a bit of a reprieve from everything going wrong, and Harry was happy to oblige. Louis still hasn’t directly expressed a need for help now that he’s home, but he seems to appreciate having someone here he can talk to who knows the whole truth. Harry sits downstairs in the kitchen with all his things for over an hour just thinking, with every intention of leaving. And yet, he can’t bring himself to actually do it.

Harry heads back upstairs around midnight and finds Louis already asleep in bed when he creeps into the room.

It’s pitch black, and although it would be some well-deserved poetic justice to wake Louis up for a change, he doesn’t do it. Quietly, Harry puts his duffle near the window and pulls the sleeping bag from beneath the bed. He’s just settling down and punching his pillow into shape when the sound of Louis’ voice startles him. At first, Harry assumes he’s just talking in his sleep again, but then he realizes Louis is talking directly to him.

“Thought you left,” he comments, giving no indication of whether that’s a good or bad thing.

“Thought you were asleep,” Harry retorts, offering no further explanation as to why he’s _not_ half-way to Manchester by now like he should be.

They fall into a silence where Harry assumes Louis actually does fall asleep and Harry begins drifting off himself, his eyes blinking open when Louis speaks again.

“So. You’re staying in Doncaster a while longer?” he asks. It’s a redundant sort of question that sounds more like a peace offering than an actual inquiry. There’s also the tiniest degree of hope audible in his voice, but Harry assumes that’s just his own exhaustion playing tricks on him.

“Guess so... for a bit anyway,” Harry says, accepting the small olive branch.

Another long silence falls between them that’s broken by Louis once again just as Harry is drifting off.

“Sorry I, um, yelled... or whatever,” he apologizes, conveniently leaving out the part where he also made Harry drop and _break_ glass all over the bathroom, but perhaps that’s what the ‘or whatever’ is meant to encompass. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“It’s okay. And me too. Don’t mention it,” Harry replies because it’s not like he disclosed the fact that he almost did leave but just didn’t feel right about it. Or, that he probably should’ve just listened to Louis the first time and gave him space like he asked.

Harry keeps his eyes open for longer this time in case his roommate has any other late-night confessions to make or questions to ask. Apparently, he doesn’t, since Louis’ soft snores start to fill the room after a few seconds.

He guesses that’s a truce, or at least some semblance of one. Either way, Harry will take it.

*

_One week later_

The house Harry grew up in didn’t have half as many people as Louis’. It was just Harry, his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma; just one sibling he needed to beat out for the bathroom each morning which was pretty easy to do with someone who’s notorious for oversleeping. Harry simply set his alarm to ring at the same time as Gemma’s, knowing she’d hit snooze half a dozen times before actually dragging herself out of bed.

Staying in the Tomlinson household requires a bit more strategy than that especially now while everyone is home for summer holiday. He had been setting his alarm for eight each morning, but by that time, he’s generally the last one up and therefore the last one in line to shower in what’s left of the hot water after so many others going first. Lately, Harry has switched tactics and has started getting up at six around the same time that Jay goes to work. It gives him nearly a whole hour to wake up, shower with hot water, and enjoy a nice cuppa without interruption. Well, hardly any interruption.

Harry’s just pouring cup of tea number two when people start trickling down the stairs. The oldest set of twins, Phoebe and Daisy emerge first, greeting Harry with bright smiles as they rummage through the pantry. The youngest set of twins appears next, followed by Louis’ eldest sisters, all of which are staring at Harry like he has three heads when he turns around from scooping extra sugar into his mug. Though, that’s probably because they’ve been taking turns calling his name for the past minute (or, at least, what they think is his name) and Harry hadn’t noticed.

“Hmm? Oh, er- Good morning!” he greets them. His smile gets returned by all of Louis’ siblings except the eldest who’s big blue eyes still hold some suspicion.

“You don’t answer to your first or middle names?” Lottie says on her way over to grab the kettle too.

It’s more of an observation than a question, and a totally accurate one at that.

“Uh, sure, I do,” Harry assures her. “I just didn’t hear you is all. I was distracted. Thinking,” he decides with a grin.

“Thinking,” Lottie repeats skeptically. “About what?” 

“Uh... stuff. _Louis_ ,” he amends with more confidence. “And the baby of course. They’re a lot to think about, babies. And-And parenting too, and how great it probably is. I can’t wait.”

There’s a chance Harry just overdid it with rambling his way out of the little hole he dug himself into, but then the corners of Lottie’s lips twitch; the precursor to a full-blown, megawatt smile that lights up her whole face as she pulls him into a tight hug.

“You’re both going to be such amazing dads! That baby has no idea how lucky it is.”

“ _So_ lucky,” Harry smiles at her once she lets him go. “In fact, I’m just going to run upstairs now and tell your brother how incredibly lucky his- er- _our_ baby is. Okay, bye,” he says, scurrying out of the kitchen with his tea before anyone else calls him by his non-name.

Chatting with Louis about the joys of parenting isn’t very high on Harry’s list of things to do today, or at all really. There’s also the fact that Harry has no idea where Louis even is, but the mystery is solved when Harry reaches the top of the stairs and realizes where he’s been hiding.

Morning sickness has driven him into the bathroom again, which is strange because for the past few days, he’s been doing much better. Apparently, he’s not completely cured, otherwise he wouldn’t be gagging down the corridor.

Harry has learned by now not to interfere. Louis hates people being around him when he’s sick and he is adamant about not wanting help no matter how bad it gets. But, it’s times like these when Harry remembers what Jay told him about Louis not wanting help; that sometimes, what’s more important is what Louis _needs_.

It’s a huge risk going back downstairs to fill a glass with water and grab a few peppermints. The two of them have fallen into a sort of peace ever since the night Harry almost left. Lately, they’ve been nicer to each other when no one’s looking and more considerate of one another as roommates. Hopefully, that balance won’t go to shit the moment Harry knocks on the bathroom door.

“Louis?” he says after a few soft taps on the wood. “I know you’re probably fine, but I just want you to know I’ve got some water here and some mints.”

No response, which might be interpreted as a bad sign from anyone besides Louis.

“I’ll just leave them here outside the door in case you need them,” Harry explains. Still no response, still looking good. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go now. Feel better.”

Harry places the glass of water next to the door along with the mints wrapped up in a napkin. He walks away as promised, but only makes it halfway down the corridor before hearing the bathroom door creak open. It’s already closed again by the time Harry stops and turns around, grinning when he notices Louis took the things that were left for him without a fight.

Funny that.

It happens again later that day when Louis suddenly disappears from the giant pillow fort his youngest siblings built around him, and a third time that night where Louis accepts his water and peppermints straight from the source while Harry’s still standing at the door.

The surprises keep on coming a couple of nights later when Harry looks around the dinner table and realizes one Tomlinson is missing. Jay notices her eldest son’s absence too, meeting Harry’s gaze from across the table with an encouraging nod towards the staircase Harry keeps glancing at.

With a glass of water and the last of the mints in hand, he heads down the upstairs corridor towards the bathroom, however he questions if Louis is even in there from how quiet it is.

“Lou?” he says, going quiet a second later to listen for any movement or demands for Harry to go away, but he hears nothing. He’s just about to leave and go look for Louis in his room when the door opens from the inside. “Oh. There you are,” he greets the pale-faced person leaning in the threshold. “Er- I brought you your usual.” Louis glances at the things in Harry’s hands, but he doesn’t take them. Instead, he turns and goes back into the bathroom and takes a seat on the floor against the wall.

He left the door open which feels like some sort of invitation so Harry follows him inside, awkwardly standing in the middle of the bathroom unsure of what he should do next or why Louis is even allowing him to be there. In the end, he places the water and mints on the countertop where Louis can reach them and then sits down across from him at the edge of the tub, wondering if the way Louis’ tucking his head between his knees is actually helping.

They sit in silence for a long time with nothing but the sound of Louis’ family chatting over their food downstairs.

“How do you feel?” Harry asks once Louis sits upright and there’s a considerable amount of color visible in his face again.

“Like I’ve been throwing up and miserable for weeks on end. You?” Louis quips, wincing a couple of seconds later at his own tone. “I keep doing that. Sorry. _Fuck_ ,” he sighs as he hides his head back between his knees but Harry suspects it has nothing to do with his nausea.

“It’s okay. It was a dumb question.” Obviously, Louis feels like shit. It’s why he snaps at Harry and sometimes at other people. Harry used to take it personally, but it’s important to remember that there’s a sweet, funny, and caring Louis behind all the hormones and mood swings. Jay reminded him of that.

Harry is in the middle of kindly rejecting Louis’ apology and also telling Louis about his cousin he remembers going from laughter to tears at the drop of a hat during her first trimester when he’s interrupted by a question that makes his brow furrow.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, you left the door open so I thought-”

“No,” Louis shakes his head, “I mean, why are you _here_ , here. As in, still. In Doncaster,” he clarifies, searching Harry’s face for an answer Harry’s not even sure of.

Harry shrugs after a long pause, still unable to pinpoint the exact reason he decided to stay.

“I- I don’t know. For you, I guess.” It feels true when he says it, but it must sound confusing because Louis is still staring at him. “It didn’t seem fair for you to have to do this alone.” Or at least with Louis being the only person in this house who knows the whole truth.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Louis points out as if Harry doesn’t already know that. “You don’t owe me anything. Especially not this,” he gestures between himself and the toilet he’s become quite familiar with. Louis says it like Harry being here is a burden; like him being here for Louis is a burden, but that’s not the way Harry sees it.

“I’d do this for any friend, Louis. I don’t mind,” he explains, but it seems Louis is only concerned with one part of what Harry said.

“We’re friends?” he teases with a grin that’s so infectious that Harry matches it.

“Well, I’d like to think so,” he chuckles. “What would you call it?”

Unfortunately, Louis doesn’t get to answer before his face goes white and he’s back to clutching the toilet bowl for dear life. Harry moves with him, grabbing a hand towel, running it under cool water, and holding it against the nape of his neck the way Jay did.

At first, Louis’ too busy being sick to realize it’s Harry’s gentle hands on him and Harry’s voice assuring him he’s going to feel better soon. But even after Louis does realize it, he allows Harry to continue cooling his skin with the cold compress, the tension in his shoulders easing each time he peeks over to find Harry, a friend, still by his side.


	6. Chapter 6

It takes a while, but eventually, Louis starts to feel better. It happens in increments that have absolutely nothing to do with Harry hanging around, but he likes to think that him being there has helped at least a little.

Louis gets less nauseous each day, and once he goes multiple consecutive days without being sick, it seems the worst of his morning sickness is behind him. Since they got to Doncaster, it’s been hard for him to keep anything down for long and he hasn’t had much of an appetite, but that’s certainly not the case anymore because Louis’ been eating and snacking on anything he can get his hands on. Sometimes, even things that he can’t.

“God, I’d _kill_ for a burger right now,” Louis announces where he’s stretched out on the sofa and idly searching through films on Netflix.

Harry chuckles from his spot on the opposite end of the sofa because Louis gave into his cravings not even an hour ago and ate two sleeves of double stuffed Oreos and then sent an emergency text to his mother to bring some more back from her shopping trip with the girls and Ernest.

“A burger does sound pretty good,” Harry admits, watching Louis scan the synopsis of yet another rom com that doesn’t pique his interest enough for him to hit play.

“But not just any burger,” Louis says, sitting up with a serious expression. “It’s gotta be good. Like from Sin Shack in Leeds.”

“ _Oh my God.”_ Harry’s mouth waters just thinking about that place and he’s not even pregnant. “You knew about Sin Shack?”

“Knew about it? I was there a _minimum_ of three times per week,” Louis exclaims, sitting up to look at Harry dead-on when he admits to eating there just as often. “Go-to order on three,” he urges before quickly counting up.

“Habanero double melt with cheesy Sin chips!” Harry shouts at the same time that Louis does.

“But, I always got _extra_ bacon though,” Louis brags as if Harry’s some kind of animal who didn’t do the same thing.

“Me too. Ooh, and avocado as well,” Harry beams, his brow furrowing when Louis narrows his eyes at him like he just slapped their hypothetical double melts to the ground. “So, _not_ an avocado fan,” Harry deduces from the offended expression on Louis’ face. Noted.

“I’ll forgive you because we’re having a moment right now. You just make sure to keep all the weird green shit on _your_ burger. Leave mine alone.” Harry snorts a laugh at Louis’ insistence on the matter. As if they’re about to pop up to Leeds for a quick visit or Sin Shack is right down the street. “Too bad we’re here and not there,” Louis laments after a while and then goes back to idly searching for something to watch, ultimately settling on Knocked Up of all things.

It is too bad they’re not in Leeds right now. It would be great if they could just bring it here since they’re both feeling a little nostalgic at the moment. That’s impossible, of course. At least... it is in a technical sense.

“Let’s have double melts for lunch,” Harry grins, only succeeding making Louis cut his eyes over at him.

“Don’t taunt hungry pregnant people about food they can’t have. It’s rude. And I might have to eat _you_.”

That’s... quite an image; one that Harry has to quickly reign in before it bleeds into inappropriate territory. “Well, I just meant why do we need Sin Shack in Leeds when we have a fully functioning, perfectly good kitchen right here?”

Louis hits pause on the movie and suddenly the only sound in the room is Louis shuffling to sit up again to look at him.

“You’re really going to replicate habanero double melts? _Here_?”

“Well, I thought maybe we could try to make them together, but, sure,” Harry smiles. “Why not?”

“Um, I can’t cook for shit, so there’s _that_ to consider,” Louis snorts. “But I have a considerable amount of faith that you won’t burn the place down, so let’s go,” he exclaims, hopping up from the sofa and heading toward the kitchen with all the determination of a man on a mission.

One shopping trip to buy double melt supplies and several rounds of trial and error to get the habanero sauce just right finds Louis leaned back in his seat and rubbing his stomach with a big satisfied smirk on his face and Harry laughing into what’s left of his garlic chips because he’s been doing it for the past five minutes.

“You know that looks wrong, right?”

“Oh, but it sure didn’t taste that way,” Louis grins, sucking at the tip of his index finger after running it through some leftover habanero sauce.

“That’s even worse!” Harry snorts just as his phone vibrates in his front pocket. It’s an email from Mindy that Harry tries not to splutter all over with Louis jokingly inquiring across the table if it was as good for Harry as it was for him.

According to his HR connection, his Leeds to Manchester transfer request has been approved. She says it’ll only take a few days for it to be processed and for Harry to finally have his old job back.

It’s terrific news; the best since it’s all Harry has wanted since walking out on his stupid ex, and he does want it. Eventually, he’ll go home where he belongs and soon. But, at the moment, he’s having a pretty good time right where he is. Especially with Louis seductively licking habanero sauce off his lips just to make him laugh.

He waits to reply until they’re back to lounging in the living room to resume watching Knocked Up. He thanks Mindy for everything she’s done and lets her know he’s thrilled to have his old job back. And since he is coming back and he’s already been gone this long, he asks Mindy to do him one more big favor by putting his transfer on hold. Just for a couple of weeks tops while he ties up a few loose ends.

“Oi,” Louis smiles, gently nudging Harry’s thigh with one of his socked feet. “Stop texting and watch this part. It’s hilarious.”

Harry pockets his phone as not-so-subtly requested and turns his attention back to the screen to watch near strangers and soon-to-be parents Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl annoy the living shit out of one another. The almost eerie familiarity of the actors’ situation compared to theirs isn’t lost on Harry. And sure, there are some big key differences like the fact that only one of them is going to be a parent at the end of all of this. But, it’s still highly relatable and it’s still incredibly funny to laugh along to together on a lazy Tuesday afternoon.

They have so many burger materials left over from lunch that they end up making them again for dinner so everyone can have the Sin Shack experience. It turns out Harry isn’t the only person who enjoys a bit of avocado on their burger. Literally everyone in the house except Louis has some, which sends him off on a ten-minute avocado rant that’s even funnier than all three of the dumb movies they spent the day watching.

Louis turns to him and blames him for corrupting the entire house, adding in a playful nudge to Harry’s side that makes Harry smile for reasons besides the fact that it tickles.

“ _Hey_. You two be nice,” Jay laughs when she catches Harry sneaking avocado slices onto Louis’ plate as retaliation.

“Yeah, _babe_. Be nice to me,” Louis echoes as he steals some of Harry’s garlic chips.

He nudges Harry again and his stomach does this weird tingly thing that Harry could probably blame on all the habanero sauce he has consumed today. However, he knows that’s not it. He knows that lately, whenever he’s touched by Louis, instinctively, he leans in closer. Not because it looks more believable for their fake relationship or because he was instructed to do so, but because he likes it. And Louis’ smiles are always so bright and sunny and amazing to see, but these days whenever one is aimed directly at Harry, he feels things he probably shouldn’t stirring at the pit of his stomach; things Harry can’t easily ignore and can’t blame on the food or anything else for that matter besides the one person Harry couldn’t ignore if he tried.

As much as Harry would love to lounge around on the sofa eating junk food with Louis again the next day, he knows they have something more important to take care of. Something that according to Jay, should’ve been taken care of weeks ago, but he guesses Louis never found the time between getting left by his idiot ex, getting out of Leeds as fast as he could, and consuming half his bodyweight in peppermints to keep himself from puking his brains out; Louis’ (and baby’s) first doctor’s visit.

Besides all the distractions keeping Louis from scheduling his first appointment, there was also the need to find the best available doctor who treats pregnant men as well as women. Jay called around Doncaster for about a week before finding Dr. Clements, a very kind and capable-looking woman who only appears slightly intimidated when Louis shows up to her examination room with eight other people in tow.

“Uh, it might be kind of a tight fit in there with all the equipment,” she explains to Louis with an apologetic grin.

“ _Oh_. Um, right...” Louis says, peeking around her to see inside the room that really is as cramped as Dr. Clements said. “Well, the ultrasound won’t take long, right? So, maybe _I_ can just go in.” Louis sounds pretty confident in his ability to do this by himself, but there’s a hint of hesitation in his eyes that Dr. Clements immediately picks up on.

“I have no doubt that you and I could do this alone with no problem. And, we can always print as many copies of the ultrasound as needed, however, I think there’s room for two or three others to watch if we all squeeze in real close,” she grins. “I’ll just give you a moment, and then we’ll get started?” Dr. Clements says, stepping into the examination room and leaving Louis in the corridor with his army of loving supporters.

“Um...” Louis’ gaze flits from person to person, looking more uncertain with each passing second about who gets to share this special moment with him. It can’t be an easy decision. In fact, Harry can see it in Louis’ eyes that he’s having trouble picking, so he decides to make it a lot easier.

“I’ll stay in the waiting room,” Harry offers, but he’s shut down immediately by multiple outraged Tomlinson’s claiming that out of everyone here, Harry deserves to go in the most because it’s his baby too.

The thing is, it’s not. Not even a little bit but that doesn’t seem to matter to Louis when he meets Harry’s eyes.

“They’re right, H. I- I want you there,” he whispers, and it doesn’t feel like just another bit to keep up their loving relationship.

“Okay, Lou. Done,” Harry whispers back, ignoring the weird sense of pride he feels as he moves to stand next to his friend.

After that, it doesn’t take long for Louis to decide on the other two people he wants at his ultrasound. He chooses his mother and his eldest sister, promising the rest of his siblings that they can come in too over the next few appointments he’ll have.

Inside the examination room, Harry can practically feel the nerves rolling off of Louis. He hadn’t seemed nervous at all this morning or during the drive over, but he guesses Louis’ a much better actor than Harry realized.

He gives Louis an encouraging grin when Dr. Clements asks him to lie back on the examination table for his ultrasound. Louis takes a deep breath and exhales it as he unbuttons his jeans and lifts up his shirt as instructed, his shoulders relaxing when Harry gives one of them a quick squeeze.

“You’re doing great,” Harry assures him, blinking in surprise when a hand suddenly reaches up and holds onto Harry’s to keep it in place.

At first, Harry can’t really tell if Louis’ desire to keep him close is genuine or just an act, but with how hard he’s squeezing Harry’s hand in anticipation of seeing his baby for the first time, Louis’ need for an anchor must be real.

Dr. Clements smears a coat of clear gel across Louis’ lower stomach that Harry finds himself stealing glances at from time to time because it’s still relatively flat. It doesn’t even look like anything is in there besides the pancakes he ate for breakfast. Certainly not a mini person, but he knows that’s not the case when the doctor glides her ultrasound wand over Louis’ stomach and leans in close to the screen angled towards her.

Louis’ grip on Harry’s hand is like a vice while Dr. Clements inspects whatever she’s seeing that’s making her smile.

“Everything looks good. Normal,” she says before turning her smile to Louis and Harry. “Would you like to see?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Louis nods with a nervous look at everyone around him. “Please.”

The tips of Harry’s fingers have started to tingle with Louis’ tight grasp, however as soon as the screen is angled towards him and everybody else, his breath catches in his throat and his grip loosens. And although it makes no sense whatsoever for Harry to have a similar reaction, or any kind of reaction at all, he does; his heart skipping several beats as Dr. Clements explains exactly what he’s looking at.

“So, we have average growth for around eight weeks; about one inch long. There’s the head and these tiny little bumps here are the beginnings of your baby’s arms and legs,” she grins at she points out each feature of the little blob wriggling around on the screen.

Jay’s and Lottie’s eyes are already wet and glossy before Dr. Clements locates the heartbeat. The tears overflow once the sound of a quick whooshing sound starts to echo in the small room. Each of them wraps Louis in a tight embrace that makes him light up even more than the sight of his baby growing inside of him. Harry gets smothered with hugs and tears next, confused by the sudden uneasiness in his gut as he’s congratulated for creating something he had absolutely no part in, but wishes that he did.

That silent desire is just as misplaced as the butterflies in Harry’s stomach from before or the new flood of warmth settling in Harry’s chest as Louis turns his happy smile in his direction; things that just yesterday Harry thought he probably shouldn’t be feeling, and today, while holding Louis’ hand and staring at his baby on the ultrasound, he knows he definitely shouldn’t.

He realizes just how much trouble he’s gotten himself into after dinner when gushing over pictures of the ultrasound turns to gushing over the family photo album where Jay breaks out every childhood picture of her eldest that she has. She declares him the sweetest and most darling baby while Louis’ siblings joke that he turned into the most annoying adult. The funny thing is, Harry agrees with them all. Louis really was the sweetest and most darling baby with the prettiest blue eyes Harry’s ever seen. That sweet darling baby did grow up to be pretty annoying at times, but Harry kind of likes that about him. That’s the whole problem, really. He likes Louis a lot; too much, he realizes. And so, somewhere between old baby photos and Louis tucking the youngest twins in for bed, Harry sneaks upstairs to pack his things and head for Manchester where things are far less complicated and where he actually belongs.

He doesn’t get very far with that plan before there’s a few taps at the door. It feels like déjà vu from the first time Harry tried to run; _tried_ being the key word there. He didn’t quite make it after speaking with Jay, which is precisely why Harry keeps packing without acknowledging the person knocking from outside the room.

“H?” Lottie asks from the corridor, making him freeze mid-fold with a t-shirt that could belong to either him or Louis but their stuff is so mixed up at this point it’s hard to tell. “H? Are you in there?” Pretending like he’s not there isn’t going to work since he obviously wasn’t as discreet as he thought when he crept up the stairs.

After a few seconds of contemplation, his duffle gets shoved under the bed with the sleeping bag that lives there during the day, but only temporarily. He’ll finish packing up once he’s alone again.

Harry opens the door to find Lottie standing there holding the giant fuzzy blanket that only gets brought out for movie nights.

“Oh. Hi, there,” Harry grins, taking note of the oversized white hoodie she’s wearing that he’s pretty sure belonged to Louis at some point. Stealing comfy clothes must run in the family.

“We’re picking the movie and you get a vote,” she informs him over the sounds of someone clicking around Netflix downstairs. Possibly a _few_ someones based on the bickering Harry also hears.

“Oh, right. Er- Great. What are the choices?”

Apparently, nothing good based on the massive eye roll Lottie gives that makes her look just like her older brother.

“So far it’s between Jumanji or Matilda. Right now, Jumanji’s winning,” she reveals, making Harry frown.

“Original Jumanji or the remake?”

“The remake,” Lottie mutters, matching Harry’s sentiments on the matter too.

“Definitely Matilda,” Harry answers, earning himself a sigh of relief from Louis’ eldest sister.

“Thank God. We could’ve used you a decade ago when Lou would make us watch The Notebook every single night!” she says loud enough for Louis to hear wherever he is in the house. “Seriously, where’ve you been all our lives?” she teases, making Harry chuckle at the thought of a teenage Louis being obsessed with Ryan Gosling. Lottie’s blue eyes turn soft as they stand there laughing together in the doorway. “I’ve never seen him happier, you know? None of us have,” she reveals about her big brother, making it hard for Harry to keep meeting her gaze.

“Well, uh... starting a new chapter and becoming a parent is exciting. There’s a lot for him to be happy about,” Harry says after a long pause where he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to everyone attributing a large portion of Louis’ new happiness to his presence here.

“That’s probably true,” Lottie nods in agreement, “But, in my opinion, I think the baby’s only part of it.” The smile on her face when she hugs Harry implies that _he’s_ the other half of the equation. “Basically, what I’m trying to say is thank you for putting up with my equally annoying and amazing big brother,” she snorts.

“Y-You’re welcome, Lotts,” Harry says once the heavy weight in his chest lifts and he’s able to breathe again. Though the release in pressure doesn’t make him feel any less guilty about the half-packed duffle currently stuffed under her brother’s bed for his quick exit out of all of their lives. When it comes to that, Harry’s more torn about leaving than he ever was before which just confirms he has overstayed his welcome here.

“See you downstairs,” she smiles before turning to go back and join her family in the living room.

“O-Okay. I’ll be down in a bit,” Harry promises, and finds that he actually means it since it’s not like he can leave anytime soon with everyone downstairs watching a movie. He’ll have to wait until everyone’s gone to bed at least, so while they’re all still awake and don’t hate his guts for leaving without a goodbye, Harry should spend as much time with them as possible.

It’s hours later after Matilda and after everyone has migrated upstairs to their beds that Harry gets his window of opportunity to go.

As far as he knows, he’s the only person in the entire house lying awake when he removes his earplugs he invested in about a week ago and quietly crawls out of his sleeping bag.

After his conversation with Lottie, he was finally able to pack his duffle minus a few articles of clothing he suspects are hiding somewhere in Louis’ wardrobe. Harry shoved his duffle right back under the bed for safekeeping until the coast would be clear; a decision he now regrets as he tries to wedge it free without waking up the person sleeping on the mattress just above it. Thankfully, his roommate sleeps like a rock most nights. He isn’t snoring just yet, but he is in a deep enough sleep that he doesn’t wake from Harry fumbling around in the dark room. That is, until Harry puts on his shoes, heads for the door, and his right foot gets caught in a pair of Louis’ joggers.

He goes slamming into the wardrobe, creating a horrible thump that makes Harry wince in fear more so than pain when Louis begins to stir... and miraculously falls right back into a peaceful sleep.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes as his heart stops trying to beat out of his chest. That was too close and the thought of almost getting caught leaving puts him so on edge that his palms are sweaty. Adrenaline brings back the uneasiness in his stomach and there’s a new tightness in Harry’s chest as he stares across the room at the person in bed whom he’ll never see or speak to again after he walks out of this house. It’s then that Harry realizes that the physical reaction to sneaking out he’s experiencing isn’t a result of being nearly caught; it’s the result of trying to leave someone he can’t bear to walk out on because the truth is, Harry could never hurt someone that he loves. “ _Fuck_.”

It’s now even more important that Harry gets the fuck out of this room, however, he finds that he can’t each time he reaches for the door knob.

“Harry?”

His heart stops the moment Louis croaks his name from across the room, but it restarts when he glances over his shoulder to see Louis sitting up and squinting at him in the dark. He looks as beautiful as always, even with his hair sticking up from all his nightly tossing and turning.

“What’s wrong? What are you doing?” Louis asks through a big yawn, the softness and concern in his voice making it impossible for Harry to answer either of those questions honestly.

“Er- N-Nothing,” he lies, placing his shoes and packed duffle down at his feet where Louis can’t see them. “It’s a bit chilly tonight s-so I was just grabbing some socks. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

Harry’s already wearing socks as part of the quick escape outfit he wore to bed. Thankfully, Louis doesn’t seem to remember this key detail as he rummages around his duffle and pretends to find a pair.

“Why are you apologizing? I allegedly wake you up all the time so it’s only fair,” Louis jokes before flopping back against his pillow.

Louis can’t fall back asleep, and Harry has no chance in hell of drifting off once he’s tucked back into his sleeping bag with his thoughts racing just as fast as his heart. He can’t figure out how he fucked this whole thing up so badly. It’s possible his feelings for Louis aren’t as romantic as he thinks and this is something else entirely. Maybe he’s just so desperate to forget about Leeds that he’s fixating on a person he instantly connected with who wants the same thing. Or, maybe he does in fact love Louis the way he thinks he does, in which case, Harry’s in deeper shit here in Doncaster than he ever was in Leeds.

“God, I’m starving,” Louis sighs after about an hour of both of them staring up at the ceiling. His stomach makes an angry growl as if to prove Louis’ point, making Harry smile despite the topsy-turvy feeling still going on in his stomach.

“You’re _always_ starving,” Harry points out, but according to Dr. Clements that’s a good thing.

“Let’s make pancakes,” he suggests a few seconds later making Harry snort a laugh.

“Um, it’s almost two in the morning.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s when pancakes taste _the best_ ,” Louis argues. Fair point, though he’s forgetting something rather vital to his late-night plan.

“There is also the fact that you don’t actually know _how_ to make pancakes,” Harry snorts again, sitting up and following Louis into the corridor after a quipped, ‘ _What do you think I invited you for?_ ’

They one-hundred percent shouldn’t sneak down to the kitchen this late to make pancakes or any food that requires Louis to operate a stove. Harry shouldn’t feel like he’s basking in the sun each time their arms brush, and most certainly of all, he shouldn’t feel his stomach fluttering with something he can’t quite place every time Louis places a hand over the tiny bump hidden beneath his shirt.

Frankly, Harry shouldn’t even be here with Louis and the baby anymore. Harry should be long gone and back to his old life where he belongs. However, he’s having so much fun doing all the things he shouldn’t that he’s able to block out that nagging voice in his head, barely even noticing the moment when his feelings of denial about falling for Louis get overruled by the butterflies in his stomach that tell him to just give in.


	7. Chapter 7

For as long as Louis can remember, he’s been zipping up and down the staircase in his house with no problem. There’s even photographic evidence of him doing it as a toddler after he learned to walk and thus began wreaking havoc on the world. He did all that including falling down a couple of times as a child and then picking himself right up, and yet here he is a grown man, noticing more than a slight dip in his speed and his energy in general as he climbs the thirteen steps up to his bedroom. You would think it was ten thousand steps from how tired he suddenly feels once he reaches the second floor, but he supposes that’s what pregnancy and a few extra pounds does to a person.

He’s in his second trimester now which is a little hard to believe since there was once a time Louis didn’t think he’d ever make it past his first; multiple times really. His morning sickness was so bad and he spent so much time in the bathroom that he almost considered moving in there permanently.

Louis hated every second he spent being sick and the thing that made him feel even worse was others trying to help. Every time he had his head in a toilet, he had somebody talking at him through the bathroom door about bloody peppermints or someone’s hands gently caressing his back. This house has never afforded anybody much privacy with the number of people living in it, but having no privacy at all to be sick ten million times per day nearly drove him insane and generally he took it out on whomever was unfortunate enough to cross paths with him in those situations. Usually, that person was Harry which Louis feels awful about because he didn’t deserve it. Louis said terrible things to him under the haze of hormones and mood swings that would take him from laughter to tears to shouting within minutes. Half of the time, Louis didn’t even know why he was so upset or angry; he just was. And how Harry was able to put up with him being such a dick, Louis doesn’t know. But, he’s glad that he did.

In his bedroom, Louis heads to his wardrobe to find something he can change into that doesn’t make him feel like a balloon stuffed into a pair of jeans. They still fit him for the most part, just not very comfortably with the small belly that’s a lot more noticeable now that he’s about sixteen weeks in. His jeans aren’t accommodating the change very well with the waistband getting so snug that it now leaves an angry-looking imprint on his skin. And so, to keep from cutting off his circulation and looking like a red, patchy freak, Louis decides today is the day he trades stiff denim for fabrics that are way more forgiving.

He makes his way back downstairs later, heading straight for the kitchen where he hears multiple voices and smells the brewing of mid-day coffee. Sadly, he hasn’t had any in months, or any tea for that matter. He won’t even get started about all the alcohol he has missed out on too, but luckily he’s distracted from dwelling about the long list of things he can’t have right now when he turns the corner and the sight of Harry makes him snort.

“You poor, poor thing,” Louis laughs, taking in the sleeve of glittery stickers, magic marker, and what looks like some of Lottie’s lipstick covering his arms and face; all courtesy of the two five-year old’s giggling in the chairs on either side of him.

“So?” he grins, and like always, Louis is compelled to grin back at him. It’s hard not to with those dimples of his, both of which are currently hiding under heart stickers. Somehow, he manages not to look as ridiculous as he should. Louis can’t tell if that’s due to hormones or if Harry really is just that gorgeous. He fears it may be a little of both.

“So, what?” Louis asks over his brother and sister negotiating how they should decorate Harry’s nose.

“How do I look?”

Impossibly cute is the phrase that comes to mind. “Like a rainbow who can’t say no,” Louis mutters under his breath instead, chuckling because that seems to be a theme with Harry. Just two nights ago, he was held hostage in the eldest twins’ bedroom for pedicures and face masks. Louis’ not sure who had more fun in that situation.

Despite Louis’ jokes, Harry’s not a total pushover; just a kind-hearted softy who could say no, but doesn’t want to. It’s the reason Ernest and Doris love to sit by him at breakfast and why his mother and other siblings all jump at the chance to spend time with him. He’s just so easy and great to be around. Knowing that only makes Louis feel more guilty for pushing him away like he did.

“I think you’re just jealous. I look good and you don’t have a single sticker in your hair,” Harry teases when Louis sits down across from them with the hot water and lemon that has replaced his mid-day caffeine boost. “I also think you’re staring at that mug of water like it personally offended you.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow at the water he hasn’t even taken a sip of yet and sighs because Harry’s right. He doesn’t really want it.

“Let’s take a walk,” Harry says out of nowhere, making Louis blink up to make sure he was talking to the twins. Apparently, he wasn’t.

“Who, me?” Louis asks with his brow furrowed.

“Yep, you,” Harry confirms, spluttering a laugh at Louis’ horrified ‘ _Looking like_ _that_?’ directed at all Harry’s custom artwork that looks like a crafts shop exploded onto him. “Are you saying you’re embarrassed to be seen with me looking so fabulous?” he grins.

“No, not at all. My concern is for the public. The scariest thing they see this time of day is lunch traffic,” he smirks, ducking to avoid the strawberry scented marker Harry throws at him.

“You alright?” Harry checks once they come to the end of one long street and start down another.

Louis was hoping Harry hadn’t noticed his breathing is slightly heavier or that he’s having to take wider steps to keep up with Harry and his longer legs. It feels good to be outside though, so Louis really can’t complain. “You asked me that already, and I told you, I’m pregnant not dead,” he smirks at his walking partner who’s not even breaking a sweat. Lucky.

“The sun feels good,” he grins up at the sky giving Louis and half of Doncaster a view of his neck and some pink lipstick he missed during clean up. Louis doesn’t tell him because it’s not like Harry cares about looking silly. Especially if it makes Louis laugh.

“Yeah, it is nice,” Louis agrees, thinking about how nice it is to have Harry here too; someone who knows the truth who Louis can really talk to.

Their plan went to shit almost immediately, but they managed to keep their secret. Everybody knows Louis’ pregnant, they think Louis left his big job up in Leeds to be closer to home because of it, and they believe he and Harry are a couple. They also believe that Harry is the other biological half of the baby he’s going to have even though neither of them has said so. It’s implied just by the two of them being together, which means it’s not actually a lie. At least, that’s what Louis will tell himself if he ever feels guilty about it.

These are the kinds of things Louis says to Harry at night when there’s no one else around. He’s become a confidant; a close friend who technically should be gone by now as designed by their own plan, and yet, he’s still here. 

Louis often wonders when exactly Harry will take off. He expects to wake up every morning and find Harry gone because Doncaster isn’t his home. He belongs in Manchester with his own family and his old life, but Harry still hasn’t heard anything about the job transfer he put in nearly two months ago. It’s taking forever to be approved and Louis wants it to happen for him, but he’s also relieved each day that it doesn’t happen because he likes having Harry around. Even if it is a bit selfish.

“Are we walking all the way back to Leeds?” Louis jokes when they turn left down yet another busy street followed by two lefts.

“Not quite. But, don’t worry we’re almost there,” Harry promises.

“Almost _where_? Norway?” Louis asks, his frown deepening when they suddenly stop in front of the delicious-smelling coffee shop Louis hasn’t even bothered to set foot in since he got back. “Are you _trying_ to get pushed into oncoming traffic?” Louis asks his idiot friend who thinks caffeine withdrawal is a game. “You know I’m not supposed to be drinking coffee right now.”

“Yeah, but I never said we were here for the coffee,” Harry grins, turning his gaze to the poster hanging in the shop window of a new coffee ice cream they now sell with a disclaimer at the bottom so tiny Louis has to lean in and squint to read it.

‘ _Artificially flavored_. _Not made with real coffee’_

“For whenever you need a change,” Harry says when he’s fixed with an excited yet skeptical smile. “It tastes just like the real thing. I couldn’t even tell the difference,”

“You’ve actually tried some?” Louis laughs, knowing that coffee really isn’t Harry’s thing especially when it comes to sweets.

“Well, yeah. I couldn’t risk being pushed into oncoming traffic in case you hated it, could I?” he teases as he kindly holds open the door for Louis to walk through it.

Harry was right. Louis tore through a whole cup of coffee-flavored ice cream and all his taste buds registered was how fucking good it tasted. It was the perfect fix for something that hot water and lemon could never replace. He can’t do so every day or every time he has a craving, but it’s nice to know he has a pretty good alternative whenever he needs it.

Once back at home, Louis realizes the downside of fake coffee which is an extreme lack of caffeine. Their little excursion only took about an hour in total, but Louis is exhausted.

In the living room, his family asks them about a dozen questions about where they’ve been. Louis answers them along with Harry, but he yawns the whole time. A nap would be so amazing right now.

“I’m going upstairs for a bit,” Louis informs the room. Nobody looks surprised since Louis slinks away to rest quite often these days, but Harry looks a bit guilty.

“That was too long of a walk. We should’ve taken an Uber,” he winces, making Louis give a fond roll of his eyes.

“Please, I practically need a nap now just walking up the stairs. Calm down,” Louis laughs, his smile falling away and his breathing coming to a stop when Harry leans down and kisses him goodbye.

The press of Harry’s lips is a familiar sort of sensation since they’ve been kissing for months now whenever there are eyes on them. It’s a feeling that is also becoming quite unfamiliar to Louis because lately, their fake kisses lead to a weird weak-in-the-knees, stomach-fluttering sensation that could either be pregnancy-related or just good old-fashioned butterflies. According to Dr. Clements, the baby has been wriggling around for months now, but not enough for Louis to be able to feel it yet, so he knows that can’t be it. And despite their little couple’s act, he and Harry are just friends, so that’s not it either. Perhaps it’s all down to Harry being an exceptional kisser; so exceptional that Louis misses the press of his lips after he pulls away.

“Have a good nap, love,” Harry says causing several members of his family to gag and mostly gush over how sweet they are with one another.

Louis is weirdly pleased by that kind of reaction towards him and Harry. He felt a similar sense of pride as they walked down the street and people took one look at them and knew without a doubt that they were together. It’s almost possessive, which isn’t something Louis really has a right to feel over a friend, but he does.

By some miracle, the weather is nice enough for a second walk the next day, but this time, Louis ends up taking a stroll with his mother. Harry is a bit occupied at the moment since Louis’ siblings stole him away first thing this morning and have yet to bring him back. Not that Louis minds sharing, especially since Louis wasn’t really up to gallivanting around the city all day. And besides, he thinks it’s great that Harry fits in with his family so seamlessly. In fact, it just makes Louis like him more. Perhaps more than even Louis realizes when his mother smirks at him.

“You’re smiling an awful lot,” his mother teases. “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

Louis rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the faint blush on his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized he was smiling before she said anything, but he certainly feels it now.

“Ready to turn back and head home to your boyfriend?” Jay asks him when they reach the end of Eighth Street. “They’re probably all back by now.”

Harry isn’t his boyfriend. He’s just a friend; a friend that Louis does actually miss, so instead of denying it, Louis starts back down Eighth Street feeling his smile more persistent than ever.

As Jay anticipated, when they return, the house is a lot less empty than when they left it nearly an hour ago. He notes multiple people bustling around making snacks and excitedly recounting their days to him, but he can’t help but notice there’s one person missing.

Louis decides to investigate and see where he’s hiding out. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to search very long. He finds Harry the moment he pushes open his bedroom door, instantly swallowing down the big, obnoxious greeting he had planned as Harry changes into fresh clothes post-shower before him.

Louis only gawks for a second before Harry senses someone else in the room and turns around. “Uh- _Oh_. Hi. They sort of pushed me into the pond. As in _all_ of them,” he chuckles over his shoulder with water from his recent shower clinging to the ends of his hair and dripping onto his neck.

Louis’ eyes follow the stretch of glistening skin and muscles before him that make up Harry’s back, all the way down between the two little dimples visible just above his towel that Louis can’t look away from because he used to look like that too. Well, sort of. Harry’s fucking gorgeous; arguably one of the most gorgeous people Louis has ever seen. He often wonders how he did manage to not notice Harry in Leeds. It’s hard for Louis to even think straight or form words with Harry, his abs, and his glistening tattoos now facing him head-on.

“Yeah. They, uh... they do that from time to time. They used to love pushing me in too,” Louis responds much too late and then goes silent again, his cheeks heating up after so much time has passed with Louis still standing there gawking that Harry politely clears his throat. “Er- R-Right. I’ll just, uh... _privacy_. Yes. O-Okay bye,” he stutters, actively trying not to think about the way his heart is pounding in his chest, or the amused and flattered grin he caught a glimpse of just before he closed the door.

The tables are turned a few days later when Louis is the one caught changing into something more comfortable. He’s just wriggling himself out of the hoodie he wears most days. The one that’s technically a size too big because it’s still baggy enough for his stomach to be mostly hidden beneath it. The only downside is it’s too hot for him to sleep in most nights, especially since he’s not used to sleeping in anything at all. Lately, he has been covering up during all times of the day, because otherwise he feels exposed. He _feels_ pregnant now that he _looks_ pregnant and oddly enough, he’s not completely sure how he feels about that even though no one has given him reason to be self-conscious.

And then of course, there’s his freakishly handsome roommate to think about; the one who doesn’t make Louis feel like he’s on display and who celebrates Louis’ growing baby bump in the presence of his family like a good boyfriend would. Harry has no such obligation in the privacy of their room though; a place where there are no secrets and where Louis can’t really hide.

He opens his wardrobe and catches his reflection in the mirror attached to the inside of the door. Like always, his stomach is the first thing he notices about himself, followed by all the other areas that suddenly appear much softer and rounder than they did before. He stares at himself in the mirror a lot these days, and each time he does, it becomes more and more difficult to recognize the person staring back at him. It’s not that he dislikes what his pregnancy is doing to his body per se, it’s just weird that his own body doesn’t look or feel like his. A point iterated even more when he hears his bedroom door opening to let someone in and Louis isn’t fast enough to pretend he wasn’t just being weird in the mirror.

Quickly, Louis grabs a t-shirt thin enough to not bake him while he sleeps and resorts to just holding it in front of his stomach as Harry enters the room, notices Louis standing there awkwardly, and offers Louis a polite grin.

“Hi.”

“Er- H-Hi,” Louis says back, wondering how strange it probably looks with Louis shielding himself with a white tee that he should probably put on at some point so he gets to work on that. “So- I didn’t think you’d come up this early,” he says, fighting with the t-shirt he ends up taking off because he’s suddenly so nervous he put it on backwards. Now, it’s also inside-out, and he can feel Harry’s curious eyes on him, probably wondering what kind of idiot can’t even put on a t-shirt without fucking it up.

He turns his back to Harry when his cheeks begin to heat up. The amount of self-consciousness he feels is so foreign. He has never ever cared about people seeing him shirtless; least of all, Harry. 

“I- I promise I _can_ dress myself,” Louis relays over his shoulder with a nervous chuckle, however, he’s much less embarrassed seeing the fond and understanding grin on Harry’s face. “I just needed one dumb shirt that fits over my stomach, you know?” he jokes.

“Sure. And that’s perfectly okay,” Harry says gently, nodding with a kindness and questioning behind his green eyes. “But, can I ask why you need one?”

That’s a very good question. One that Louis opens his mouth several times to try and answer but can’t come up with any explanation besides feeling like he should. Louis turns to face him, noticing Harry’s eyes holding no judgement or disgust as they take him in, roundness and all.

They stare at each other for a long time before Harry’s grin returns and he gives a little shrug. “Wear the shirt, Lou. Or don’t. It’s totally up to you, but you should know you look amazing either way. Own it.”

That’s a lie. Or maybe it isn’t he realizes after he frowns down at his belly and looks up again to find Harry stealing glances at him just like all the other times he walked in on Louis when he wasn’t showing.

“I’m just gonna, uh... my toothbrush,” Harry gestures to his duffle by the window, not even concerned that he was just caught staring. He digs through his bag for what he came for and then leaves to head towards the bathroom. When he’s gone, Louis turns back to his mirror, checking himself out again, still finding it weird that a just few months have made him look so different. But, when he looks this time, he thinks maybe that’s not as terrible of a thing as he originally thought. It’s definitely not worth sweating to death over and not sleeping as comfortably as he could. It’s also not something Louis should feel the need to hide from the world, or at least the people he’s closest to. And so, he leaves the shirt in the wardrobe that night and every other night that follows.

After that, Louis finds that he has never slept better or felt better now that he’s feeling a bit more comfortable in his skin. He no longer has a mini panic attack when he reaches up for something and a bit of his stomach is exposed or when Doris and Ernest brush up against it when they sneak up and hug him. Sometimes he wears hoodies and t-shirts, sometimes he doesn’t, and that’s okay. It’s also incredibly freeing, and Louis can’t help but feel he owes all his newfound confidence to the person who helped him realize it had never really gone anywhere.

The funny thing is, Harry isn’t even aware that what he said had any kind of impact on him. He hadn’t come upstairs that night with the intention of making Louis feel more like Louis again, but he did. And Louis wants to thank him for that; for all that he’s done since agreeing to even come to Doncaster with him in the first place. The only problem is, Louis doesn’t really know how, but one evening he gets an idea.

It comes to him while everyone is downstairs for movie night and Louis realizes only half of his attention is on the movie due to Harry sitting on the floor in front of him, gently rolling his neck and shoulders to release the tension in them.

He does that a lot. Louis assumes it’s from spending the last three months sleeping on the hard floor. Louis feels a twinge of sympathy every time he hears Harry cracking the joints in his back so he decides to do something about it, sitting up from where he was resting against the arm of the sofa to begin gently massaging the taut shoulders before him.

Louis’ eyes comically widen at the ‘ _Holy shit_ ’ Harry moans out that makes Louis snort a laugh and makes everyone else turn away from Madagascar to shush them.

“Sorry, guys,” Louis whispers and flicks Harry in the ear as well since him and his sensual noises are mostly to blame in this situation.

“Er- Y-Yeah. What he said,” Harry blurts when he realizes that was his cue to say something. “ _Sorry_ ,” he whispers.

They receive a bunch of fond eyerolls before everyone refocuses on the movie; everyone except Harry who ignores the screen completely to scoot closer to Louis on the sofa and hang his head forward the instant Louis’ hands go back to working out his kinks. But, this time, he manages to keep any orgasmic outbursts and swearing to himself.

By the end of the movie, the youngest set of twins are out cold and everyone else looks about ready to follow suit. Once people wake up enough to start moving again, Harry offers to help get the little ones and all their belongings upstairs to their bedroom, leaving Louis to watch from the sidelines since he’s not supposed to lift heavy things right now. He’s not bored for long though, receiving a soft kiss to his forehead from his fake boyfriend who gives him some pretty real butterflies every time he does things like that.

“See you upstairs,” he whispers, and Louis knows it’s just for show. It doesn’t really mean anything, and yet Louis is pins and needles about it anyway.

As promised, Harry does meet him upstairs in their room later, but their usual routine for going to bed is all that takes place rather than the subtle yet sweet suggestion Harry’s earlier promise implied. Louis watches him go through the motions from beneath his duvet, changing out of jeans and into joggers, and making sure to plug in his phone. He leaves to go brush his teeth and when he returns, bends down next to the bed to pull out the sleeping bag and pillow that’s hidden under it.

Louis’ back hurts just looking at it, which is nothing compared to how it probably feels to have to sleep on it. Another night on the floor will just undo the Madagascar length massage Louis just gave him. And besides that, after everything Harry has done the least the Louis could do is offer him an actual bed, and so, that’s exactly what he does.

“We should sleep together,” he says, realizing seconds later how that might’ve sounded after Harry’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he appears to no longer be breathing. “ _Oh._ N-Not like that. I- I mean unless... Fuck. Never mind. Scratch all that,” Louis winces like the idiot he clearly is before taking a deep and trying again. “What I meant was, don’t sleep on the floor because it’s bad for your back. There’s a bed here and we should both sleep in it.” Much better.

His new and less sexual offer is met with more silence, as well as uncertainty on Harry’s face.

“Seriously,” Louis assures him, proving it by turning back the duvet. “I’ll scoot over so you can get in too. Which side do you prefer?”

They stare at each other for a long time. He can practically see Harry’s mind balancing his options, and eventually sleeping next to Louis outweighs everything else.

“Left,” Harry answers after what feels like an eternity.

Louis scoots himself to the right side of the bed. “Done. Now, hop in,” he grins, eagerly patting the empty space beside him to make Harry laugh.

“You’re so weird,” Harry claims as he abandons the sleeping bag to climb onto Louis’ mattress instead. Louis will take weird. He’s been called way worse.

It’s been a while since Louis has shared a bed with anybody. It has been just as long for Harry, which is probably why he speaks up to lay down some ground rules.

“Now, I generally try to keep the duvet _on_ the bed,” he warns which feels like a personal attack on Louis’ need to be uninhibited and free while he sleeps, but whatever. “I also don’t enjoy being kicked, bounced, nudged, or jostled in the night.”

“Fine. I’ll try to be still,” Louis promises with a roll of his eyes. “Anything else, Your Highness?”

“Snore in my face and I’m moving back to the floor.”

“Don’t move and don’t breathe. Got it,” Louis smirks, yelping when Harry pinches his arm as payback. “Can we go to sleep now?”

“ _Yes_ , but, one more thing,” Harry says as they both settle in next to each other.

“Now what? I must maintain five to ten centimeters of space between us at all times?” Louis teases, his smile morphing to a soft grin when Harry shakes his head.

“No. The opposite actually. I was going to say kicking, bouncing, nudging, and jostling are all off limits, but _spooning_...” he grins, “Well, that one isn’t so bad.”

Louis actively ignores the stuttered rhythm of his heart beating and pretends Harry’s dimples, green eyes, and the thought of being cuddling by him have no effect.

“Noted,” Louis says, reaching up to turn off his bedside lamp. “And just for the record, big spoon or little spoon?” he inquires, his heart nearly jumping out of his throat when Harry moves to cuddle him from behind with an arm wrapped tight around Louis’ middle and a soft ‘ _Big_ ’ whispered right next to his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update in a couple of days! <3


	8. Chapter 8

Harry wakes up with a frown on his face, which isn’t strange since the sound of a pillow thudding onto his head from somewhere above or the sound of his joints cracking against the floor beneath him usually pulls him out of sleep. Today, neither of those happen though. He wakes up entirely on his own, in an actual bed, and with Louis plus one cuddled into his chest.

Maybe that’s why Harry’s frown quickly morphs into a sleepy smile. Because technically he’s been sleeping and waking up next to Louis for months while he was camped out on the floor, but today is by far his favorite.

Louis begins to stir a couple of minutes later. Eventually, his soft snores fade out and he lets out a mighty yawn.

“Well, well. Look who’s still in bed with me,” he teases, his voice not quite woken up yet as he lazily rubs over his belly.

“Surprisingly, I wasn’t physically assaulted in my sleep, so I stayed,” Harry grins back.

What’s more surprising is that Louis hardly even moved last night. Perhaps he took Harry’s ground rules to heart, or maybe he was just tired. Or, what’s most likely is that for all of Louis’ philosophies about independence, he sleeps much better with someone beside him.

“So...” Louis smirks as he looks up at Harry. “What you’re saying is, I turned out to be the greatest sleeping partner of all time, and to thank me for such a sound night of rest you’re making me banana pancakes?”

Greatest sleeping partner of all time is a bit of a stretch considering Harry is currently lying on a sliver of the mattress, but the warmth he gives off and those blue eyes of his make it hard for Harry to disagree. “ _Yes,_ I will make you banana pancakes,” Harry snorts.

“With bacon.”

“With bacon,” Harry promises making Louis sport a grand, victorious smile.

Downstairs is more hectic than the quiet of Louis’ bedroom with pretty much everyone in the house awake and ravaging the kitchen at once. It’s Sunday, but Jay got called into work leaving the rather kitchen-challenged Tomlinson’s to fend for themselves; translation: Harry makes banana pancakes and bacon for everyone, and decides to do cinnamon sugar toast as well since the eldest twins love it so much.

The whole time Harry’s cooking, Louis perches himself on the adjacent countertop he claims to be ‘learning’ from when really he’s just chattering away about everything and nothing, but Harry loves the company.

“Are you taking notes over there?” Harry teases, just about to pour the last of the pancake batter into the frying pan when he realizes his student has gone quiet. “Wow, are you _actually_ writing this down?” he laughs, briefly glancing away from the stove to find Louis pale-faced, reminiscent of his morning sickness days. “Lou? You alrig-?” Harry tries, but he doesn’t even get to finish asking the question before Louis hops down from the counter top and takes off running towards the bathroom. “ _Shit_.”

Harry hands off the bowl of batter to one of the girls standing nearby and takes off after him, nearly bowling Louis over when he suddenly stops out of nowhere.

“Lou, what the hell? I could’ve really hurt you and the baby,” he chastises him, blinking in confusion when Louis removes one hand from the side of his stomach and places Harry’s there instead. “Louis, why are you-?”

“Shut up and feel,” Louis orders him, wearing a smile even bigger than the one he wore when he talked Harry into making pancakes as he holds Harry’s hand in place.

It takes a while for anything to happen, and for the first few seconds Harry’s not even sure what he’s supposed to be feeling for until the underside of his palm receives a soft yet unmistakable nudge.

“Oh my god,” Harry gasps, now smiling just as big and proud as Louis. “H-Has that ever happened before?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head. “I- I felt something in the kitchen and thought it was just more morning sickness. But then I felt it again and...” He doesn’t finish that sentence, presumably too amazed by the sensation of his baby moving inside of him to care.

What amazes Harry more than the baby’s movements is the look of pure awe on Louis’ face and the way his eyes light up each time they feel another kick.

“God, that’s so _weird_ , isn’t it?” he laughs, but he doesn’t remove his hand or allow Harry to remove his. “Is it weirder that I kind of love it?”

“No. Not at all,” Harry assures him, certain that the weirdest thing of all besides realizing he’s in love with one person, is realizing that he’s falling for someone else too, just as quickly and just as hard, and they’re not even here yet.

It’s the day of Louis’ second ultrasound and past time for them to leave for it when Harry hurries down the stairs to find Louis on the sofa completely unbothered that they’re probably going to be late. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear and talking to himself, which would look a little strange if he weren’t cradling his belly the way he has ever since that first kick a couple of weeks ago.

He’s so beautiful; absolutely glowing despite Louis’ protestations that pregnancy glow isn’t a real thing. And maybe he’s right, because Harry is sure Louis would shine this bright no matter what.

“Here you are,” Harry grins, ignoring the time to sit down next to him. “You two having another little chat?”

“Sort of. Well, a one-sided chat anyway,” Louis chuckles with a little shrug. “According to all the books and stuff, they can hear at 18 weeks.”

“That’s perfect then,” Harry smiles since Louis’ right around twenty. “So, chatting about anything good? Any gossip I can join in on?”

It was just a silly question to which Harry expected a silly answer, not the shy blush on Louis’ cheeks or the way he suddenly has trouble meeting Harry’s gaze. Clearly, Louis isn’t comfortable sharing whatever it is he can say to the baby but not to him, so Harry changes the topic to something he knows Louis is open to talking about.

“So, any good names sticking out to you yet?”

The last Harry checked, Louis was still very much undecided because he hadn’t started to think about names until recently when his pregnancy began to feel more real.

“I like a few,” he answers after a thoughtful pause. “My mum and sisters chose some really good ones, but I’m thinking Ryan? I like it the most and It feels the most right when I picture it. Boy or girl.”

_Ryan._ Harry closes his eyes for a moment to try and imagine himself holding a little girl with Louis’ chestnut-colored hair or a boy with the same sparkly blue eyes. Both babies are beautiful in Harry’s mind, and he thinks the name Ryan would suit each of them perfectly simply because Louis chose it.

“I like it too,” Harry smiles. “It’s a great name.” And right on time too since they’re about to find out the baby’s sex, assuming they actaully _make_ this appointment.

The trip to the doctor doesn’t take too long. It helps that everyone doesn’t come along this time. As promised, different members of Louis’ family get to accompany him to his appointments so they’re all included. The youngest twins will go during Louis’ third trimester checkup when the ultrasound pictures will be the closest to what their little niece or nephew will look like. For today, the people tagging along are the eldest twins, Daisy and Phoebe, who have been excited about it all week.

When they’re all called back by Dr. Clements, Harry can already tell a difference in Louis’ confidence level from before. This time, he doesn’t need any encouraging grins or anybody to hold his hand, but Harry does both of those things anyway simply because he wants to, and it feels right.

Louis raises his shirt without hesitation so the doctor can squeeze the gel onto his tummy that’s no longer looks like he’s had a big meal or two. It’s over twice the size that it was, which they soon find out is a good thing. Louis listens attentively to the doctor and so does Harry as the baby’s head, organs, and limbs are measured and given the doctor’s seal of approval. Though one of the most exciting things is getting to see a grainy image of the baby’s face for the first time.

“And now the moment you’ve probably all been waiting for,” Dr. Clements smiles towards the end of the ultrasound. “Would you like to know the sex?” She looks first to Louis and then to Harry for an answer, the two of them glancing at one another before nodding their answer. “It’s a boy,” Dr. Clements reveals, chuckling when the twins both exclaim how excited Ernest will be to not be the only little boy in the family after a very long string of girls.

Harry listens to them both talk about how amazing it’ll be to have a nephew and it hits him just how very lucky baby Ryan is. Harry mentally calculates all the amazing people that will be in Ryan’s life, only realizing after he includes Ryan’s Aunt Gemma, and his grandmother, Anne, that somewhere along the way Harry added himself into the equation.

He’s not sure when that happened or how, but at some point, he stopped referring to Ryan as Louis’ baby and started thinking of him as his; as _theirs_. However, things begin to make more sense when Louis sits up and brings their lips together for a deep kiss that doesn’t feel like something they’re doing for show. And maybe that’s because it’s not.

That night, Harry decides to test his theory, leaning in to kiss Louis before bed as usual, noting the way Louis leans in to meet him now-a-days without even checking to see who’s watching and how closely their lips linger before they part.

Harry could be imagining it all. That’s most likely since he often catches himself longing to kiss his friend he harbors less than platonic feelings for. Another simple explanation could be that their nightly song and dance as a fake couple has become so routine that Louis no longer notices it, but the way his blue eyes linger on Harry’s mouth when they pull back says different. Or, it could be that Louis is just that great an actor that he has even convinced _Harry_ that they’re in love. But it’s not likely especially since Harry has been led to believe what he had with someone in the past was love, but it for damn sure didn’t feel like this.

He still can’t figure out exactly how Louis feels about him once they’re tucked in bed together upstairs, but it’s driving him crazy either way. Are they friends or are they more? He can’t fall asleep, and apparently neither can Louis who turns over in the circle of Harry’s arms to face him. Even just that has Harry’s heart racing. He can’t be expected to rest without knowing if Louis feels things even remotely similar about him.

“I can practically hear you thinking over there, you know,” he smiles at him in the dark, rolling his eyes when he gets no smile in return. “Are you seriously upset that I stole half of your cookie earlier?”

It’s not about the cookie. It’s about how full Harry’s heart feels whenever Louis is near him, even when he’s being annoying as shit.

“Really? Because that was hours ago and it’s not like you’ve ever cared about me stealing some of your food before,” Louis continues, paying no attention to Harry’s gaze locked on his lips. “And honestly, it’s not even really _me_ whose idea it was to steal it in the first place. The baby just craves stuff and you happened to have it in hand, so really, it’s both of your faults. I’m the innocent party,” he reasons, his words and breaths coming to a halt when he finally notices the intent behind Harry’s eyes and where they are focused.

Just like all the kisses they’ve shared before, Harry leans forward to connect their lips, except this time, there’s nobody else there to see it. The way their lips slide together and Louis hums in approval of it isn’t for show. It’s not for anybody but the two of them.

Neither of them is acting as their kiss deepens like never before, and Harry’s not just imagining it when Louis pulls him in so close there’s barely any space between them. His belly bumps Harry a few times and he feels a series of little kicks in response. They remind Harry that his stomach isn’t the only one going wild right now from adrenaline, and also, that he and Louis aren’t quite as alone as they thought.

Harry laughs into their kiss which makes Louis pull back, panting and looking almost frustrated with himself, _and_ Ryan. He begins apologizing for not being able to kiss Harry the way he should; complete and utter bullshit as far as Harry’s concerned, and to prove it, he pulls Louis even closer so that his belly is cradled safely between the two of them and kisses him even harder.


	9. Chapter 9

_Two Months Later_

Louis can hardly keep from spitting out the water with lemon he’s been trying and failing to drink for the last ten minutes due to the absolute idiot next to him at the kitchen table making dumb faces each time Louis takes a sip. It’s infuriating because Louis had every intention of drinking it before it went cold, but it’s difficult to be mad at someone so cute who’s hell-bent on making him smile at _least_ one-hundred times per day.

“You do realize I’m going to have to smother you in your sleep, right?” Louis asks. “At eight months pregnant it’s the only sort of payback I can manage without breaking a sweat.”

Louis hadn’t meant for that to cause Harry to dribble coffee down his chin, but results are results.

“Are you actually threatening to sit on my face right now?” Harry snorts. “Because I’ve got to say, that’d be one hell of a way to g-go.”

Harry’s voice tapers off when he’s elbowed in the ribs for forgetting they’re not the only ones in the room that has gone dead silent. When they glance around the table at everyone, they’re all wearing bewildered expressions that just makes the two of them cackle.

“People are eating, _H_. Don’t be rude,” Louis chastises him, nearly choking on his lemon water when Harry innocently shrugs and mutters under his breath that he was talking about eating too. He’s coughing and laughing at the same time as he allows himself to be fussed over by the culprit of this whole situation.

“Aw, baby, come here. I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes even though he can’t stop laughing either. Louis only fights him for a couple of seconds before willingly submitting to all the kisses being peppered across his face. “Are you alright? Will you survive? Do you forgive me?”

“ _No_ ,” Louis scoffs in answer to all three of his questions. It’s a lie, and Harry knows that, fondly rolling his eyes as they both lean in for a makeup kiss.

Harry tastes like coffee which is amazing all on its own, but the feeling of Harry’s soft lips on his makes it even better. Once again, Louis forgets that other people exist in the world. That is until a tiny voice across from them asks a question that momentarily stops Louis’ heart and causes the baby to aim a swift roundhouse kick somewhere near his ribcage.

“Did you ask my brother to marry you?”

Louis and Harry both blink at Ernest and his inquiry that has everyone else staring now as well. Eventually, Harry shakes his head in answer, but that just makes Ernest more curious about them.

“Did he ask _you_ to marry _him_?”

“Um, nope,” Harry grins at him. “We’re not engaged.” A solid answer that Louis’ little brother accepts, however his twin has a harder time processing that response.

“So, you’re not married?” Doris asks.

“We’re not married,” Harry confirms for the third time.

“But you’re going to be _dads_?” she giggles like that’s the silliest thing she ever heard, and suddenly the room is even quieter than it was at the subtle mention of rimming over breakfast.

Louis certainly doesn’t have an answer for that. That’s the whole reason Harry came here in the first place. So he didn’t have to admit that he was having a baby with someone who wasn’t even going to be in the picture.

“Erm...” Harry swallows nervously as he looks around at everyone, eventually catching Jay’s amused gaze at the end of the table.

Even though Louis was terrified to tell her the truth, she has never been one to judge or lie when it comes to life and love and how messy they can be even when you plan for the opposite. She nods encouragingly at Harry with a grin, silently giving him the okay to just be honest with her two youngest and everyone one else awaiting an answer.

Louis’ heart is barely beating as he turns to Harry too, unsure of just how honest he’s about to be here when he takes a deep breath before answering with a very diplomatic, “Sometimes people are married before they have babies... and sometimes, they’re not. What’s important is that the people love and care about each other,” he explains.

“Like you and Achoo?” Ernest asks making Louis’ heart stop all over again. It restarts after a second or two. Just in time for his stomach to swirl with butterflies when Harry links their fingers together on top of the table and gives them a sure squeeze.

“Yeah, Ernest. Like me and Lou,” he smiles.

Louis wasn’t so sure at first, but the fake love he and Harry crafted had been verging on the real thing for a long time; before Louis even realized he had fallen for someone he was never supposed to keep.

Everything since the night they both stopped pretending and Harry kissed him in the quiet of his bedroom has been one-hundred percent genuine. Harry is no longer his fake boyfriend or even just a temporary friend. He is now officially and permanently part of Louis’ life and most importantly, the baby’s life too. Nothing made that clearer than the day Harry got a call about his job in Manchester a couple of months ago.

From what Louis could hear as he eavesdropped through the bathroom door, Harry’s job transfer was approved forever ago but he kept postponing actually going back to it. He had put it off for so long that the position could no longer be held. He was being given an impossible ultimatum, and so, Louis assumed the time had finally come for Harry to pack up to leave. Louis couldn’t even imagine it; never seeing Harry again and having to do all of this without him. But then, Harry did something unbelievable that changed absolutely everything. He asked if his company for one last favor; if they had anything available in Doncaster; where he’d ultimately like to settle for a while. Louis could hear the other person on the line squawking into the receiver, ‘ _DONCASTER?_ _What on Earth is in Doncaster worth moving there for?_ ’; to which Harry answered, ‘ _A couple of things.’_

Since that moment, all the dread and fear that had settled into Louis’ chest has faded away, leaving a deep and steady warmth there in its place because Harry _isn’t_ going anywhere. He chose to stick around for him and for the baby, and for that, Louis can’t help but love him and smile like an idiot every second of every day, because Harry loves him back.

It’s not something Louis really gets to talk about much or be overly excited about in front of his family. As far as they all know, the two of them fell for each other in Leeds a long time ago and their baby who will be here in less than a month is a product of that love. It wouldn’t make much sense for Louis to sit around gushing and being annoyingly happy about a new relationship that’s technically old news, but he _wants_ to. And since his son has nothing to do right now besides camp out on top of his bladder all day and turn cartwheels all night, Louis oftentimes finds himself confiding in him. Partly because he’s the greatest listener in the world at the moment, but mostly because Louis doesn’t want to lie to him.

Louis’ mother was always honest with him and his siblings about their dads and how sometimes things simply don’t work out. She never sugar-coated things like that and Louis doesn’t want to either, so he tells his son everything; about his ex, about meeting Harry, and mostly, about Leeds turning out to be the best mistake he ever made.

He talks about the past as well as the future, promising to try and be a good dad and to try and be a good partner to his other dad as well; the one who cares for him just as much as Louis. He also promises to one day tell his son the truth all over again when he’s old enough and the timing is right for Louis to explain why he ever lied in the first place. Louis just hopes he will understand and not hate him for it.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon when Harry finds him and the baby in the middle of one of their one-sided chats about him, his green eyes softening and a grin spreading across his face the moment he pokes his head into Louis’ room. Harry doesn’t interrupt as he comes to take a seat next to him against the headboard, waiting patiently until the conversation is over to nuzzle into Louis’ neck and breathe him in. His breaths tickle while they linger on Louis’ skin, but then Harry angles his chin towards him for a slow kiss and all of Louis’ chuckles subside.

He still gets a little breathless whenever Harry pulls him in this way; affectionate and sure and for the sole purpose of just being close to him. Louis hasn’t had someone kiss him the way that Harry does in a long time. Possibly, ever. However it’s nothing compared to the way his stomach flutters when he bends to press his lips there.

“Hi,” Harry whispers, sitting up again to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek followed by his jaw.

It takes Louis a couple of beats to say it back, still reeling from such a warm greeting. “Hey,” he breathes. “I thought you were playing hide and seek with the twins,” he snorts as the sound of two pairs of little feet go racing down the corridor.

“I _am_ playing,” Harry argues. “While Doris and Ernest are busy seeking, I decided to hide out in here with you. I’m multitasking,” he smirks, leaning in to steal another kiss.

Louis suffers from constant butterflies these days along with constant jabs from the restless little guy who is due in just three more weeks. It’s still hard to believe that in less than a month he’s really going to be a father; that he and Harry will both be. The fact that he gets a partner in all this is the most mind-blowing thing of all.

It doesn’t feel possible that in mere days he’s going to meet his son, mostly because Louis isn’t one-hundred percent ready. There’s so much that still needs to be done and there’s not nearly enough time to do them all.

He has had nine months to get ready, but they seem to have flown by. It’s like one minute he was staring down at a positive pregnancy test and the next he and Harry were making a birthing plan with Dr. Clements. Time passed without Louis even noticing and he can’t get it back.

His mother says it’s normal to feel a little anxious now that he’s approaching the end of the road, but that doesn’t really put his mind at ease.

“You’re worried about something.”

Louis blinks open his eyes to find Harry’s concerned gaze on him rather than his lips like before. Louis was so wrapped up in thinking about the baby coming that he hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped kissing.

“Hmm? No. I’m alright,” he lies though he must not have been very convincing.

“What’s bothering you? You can tell me,” Harry says, his sincere and caring tone making it nearly impossible for Louis to do otherwise.

“...We don’t have a crib yet,” Louis sighs even though that’s a pretty obvious observation from where they’re sitting and looking at combined pile of all their shit where the crib should be.

“Well, yeah,” Harry agrees. “But we’re picking one out this weekend, remember?”

Yes, Louis remembers, but it’s not here yet and that’s what has him worried. What if they get one and they don’t like it? What if they choose one and the _baby_ doesn’t like it? Or, in the worst-case scenario, what if they get one too late and Ryan ends up sleeping in a drawer of the wardrobe or a cardboard box because he comes early like Dr. Clements claims _could_ happen?

For the sake of his own sanity, he sincerely hopes that last one is just him being really, _really_ paranoid. But, on the off-chance that it’s not...

“We still haven’t packed the hospital bag,” Louis blurts over the sound of the twins slamming all the doors in the house looking for their favorite playmate. He then goes on to blurt out half a dozen other things they need to do like shop for clothes and secure Louis a job for after this place becomes an even bigger madhouse by adding a newborn to it. He wonders if he really is losing it after he finishes listing anything and everything that crops up in his mind and Harry is fondly watching him as if Louis just told him the sky is blue. “You think I’m insane. I sound completely insane,” Louis groans to himself.

“No, babe, you don’t. Not at all,” Harry chuckles as presses a kiss to his knuckles. “...I do think you sound just a tiny bit stressed.”

A _tiny_ bit? Louis scoffs at the implication. He’s about to be handed an entire infant that he has to keep alive longer than the houseplant that didn’t even last as long as his stint in Leeds. ‘ _Stressed_ ’ is a fucking understatement.

“I can’t do this; be a parent,” he suddenly realizes.

“But you’re already doing this, and you’re amazing at it,” Harry says, resting a hand over Louis’ stomach that’s so big now he can’t even see his own feet when he stands. “You’re working yourself up like this because you care about your kid just that much, love. That’s definitely a parent thing.”

Louis guesses that makes sense on some level. He certainly has never cared about anything else this intensely in his entire life. “Well, _go on_ ,” Louis prompts, making Harry laugh after giving his words some thought.

“I think some of those things you mentioned can be taken care of today to get rid of some of your stress. Like the crib for example,” he suggests. “We can get one today if you like. We wouldn’t have to wait until the weekend and I could even assemble it so it’s here and ready to go.” That _would_ make Louis feel a lot better. “And after that, we can pack the hospital bag so it’s ready too. Another thing off the list.”

“That would be fantastic,” Louis sighs, feeling a significant amount of relief just knowing they have a fucking plan.

“And then after _that_ ,” Harry continues, “We’re going to not shower, get dressed in our most comfortable and stretchy clothes, and go out for dinner and dessert wherever you want because can’t staying in is boring. And plus, we’re overdue for a first date anyway,” he grins.

It’s true. They’ve been together for months now without ever going on a single real date. And once the baby is here, who knows how long it will be before they get another chance.

“So, you’re asking me out on a date,” Louis grins. “Do you usually win people over with promises of crib assembly and elastic clothing?”

“Only when absolutely necessary,” Harry grins. “And only when I think it’d be impossible to convince my very pregnant and very beautiful boyfriend to shave or perhaps wear something _not_ made of elastic...?” Louis doesn’t even bother considering that question before giving Harry the flattest expression possible. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” Harry snorts just as the bedroom door flies open, Harry’s two seekers announce their victory, and they lunge for the attack.


	10. Chapter 10

And so, that’s how Harry ends up pacing the floor of the Tomlinson’s kitchen wearing an old hoodie and his favorite pair of joggers, feeling a nervous sort of excitement thrumming through his veins. He can’t remember the last time he was this anxious to see someone. Especially after already spending a full day together shopping around the city for baby supplies and then assembling a crib that neither of them is totally convinced won’t topple over the moment they try to put an actual baby in it, but that’s a worry for some other time, because tonight is all about them.

Harry expects for his nervous butterflies to go away once Louis comes downstairs to join him, but the sight of him only makes Harry’s stomach flutter more. He’s just glad everyone else is in other rooms around the house so they can’t see him grinning like an idiot.

“I thought we agreed to _not_ trying too hard,” Harry smirks when Louis enters the kitchen.

“I assure you, minimal effort was made on my part,” he counters but it’s not true.

Louis is dressed very comfortably as can only be expected three weeks from his due date, but his hair has been fixed, he smells amazing like the cologne up in his room that he never uses, and his facial hair is much shorter and neater than it has been in weeks. All the attention makes Louis blush and roll his eyes like he’s going to diminish how great he looks again, so Harry leans forward and brings their lips together before he can.

“ _Wow_. Maybe I should brush my teeth more often,” Louis jokes before pulling back enough to look at him more seriously and tug on the frayed strings of Harry’s green hoodie that is now several shades lighter than when he bought it years ago. “You’re looking pretty incredible yourself.”

“What, _this_ old thing?”

Harry’s been waiting to use that since he went upstairs and started getting ready for their date as if he was getting ready for bed.

“So, where are you taking me to be properly wined and dined?” Louis smiles up at him, expression going flat when Harry gently corrects him with ‘ _watered_ and dined’. However, his face quickly lights up again at the mention of the cheap pizza shop less than a fifteen-minute walk from the house. It also probably helps that ice cream is sold at the same location meaning they can do dinner and dessert without even having to move. It’s a pregnant man’s dream.

“You want the last slice, don’t you?” Harry grins at his date after watching him subtly eye what’s left of their pepperoni and ham pizza for the past five minutes.

Louis blinks up from the round metal platter between them and gives an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “Hmm? What slice? Nope. Doesn’t matter to me,” he lies though not very convincingly. “I think I had more than you anyway, so _you_ take it. It’s only fair.”

“Eh. I’m good,” Harry shrugs back. “I’m full so the last slice is totally up for grabs. It’s all yours.”

A tempting offer, if the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of Louis’ lips is anything to go by.

“What if I don’t even _want_ another slice?” Louis counters. “You ever think of that?”

“Ah, but what if I know that you do?” Harry quips back after a mini stare-off between them that just makes Harry grin more. He can see Louis’ eyes moving from the pizza to the pair of dimples rendering him unable to keep up his straight face.

“You’re _sure_ you don’t want it?” Louis checks, his hand already hovering near the crust, his thumb and index finger closing around it with a final nod of encouragement from Harry.

The moan Louis makes as he bites into the pizza is soft, but still loud enough to make the people sitting nearby glance into their booth. It also makes Harry cackle, which was definitely Louis’ goal in eating it so sensually. Now, he and Louis are both laughing their heads off, drawing even more attention to their booth, including the attention of two people just walking into the pizza shop whose faces light up with recognition.

Harry doesn’t know the two men who are now openly staring in the entryway and seemingly debating about something. Possibly about coming over; the decision apparently made for them when Louis glances towards the door too and the color drains from his face.

Louis turns away from the door, suddenly looking so anxious he’s no longer eating or meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Lou? Are you alright?” Harry frowns, knowing that he’s not.

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine,” he says and Harry wants to believe it but he can’t with Louis searching around him for his phone like he wants to make a run for it.

“Babe, who are those people? Do you know them?” They sure seem to know Louis based on the direct line they’re both making towards him.

“ _Fuck,”_ Louis breathes to himself right before the two men arrive at their booth and offer tentative smiles that make it difficult for Harry to interpret whether their intentions are good or bad.

“Hey, Tommo,” one of them says in an Irish accent followed by a soft ‘ _Hey, Lou’_ from the man with the sleeve of tattoos covering his forearms.

Harry still isn’t can’t be sure how Louis feels about these people when he returns their nervous grins with one of his own. “Hey, guys,” he says, self-consciously holding his belly as if to hide it from the two pairs of eyes that keep glancing at it.

Their exchange is followed by a thick silence that lifts when Louis remembers Harry’s presence at the table too.

“So, this is Harry. My boyfriend,” Louis introduces him, watching anxiously as all three people become acquainted.

“Hey, there. I’m Liam,” says the one with all the tattoos who reaches out to shake Harry’s hand.

“I’m Niall,” the Irish one reveals before shaking Harry’s hand as well. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Cheers. You too...” Harry assures them both with a grin. “Er- Though I’m just not quite sure who it is I’m meeting exactly,” he chuckles before glancing over at his uncharacteristically quiet boyfriend.

He seems wildly uncomfortable, and Harry soon understands why when Louis introduces Liam and Niall as not only his mates, but his _best_ mates since he was a kid which strikes Harry as slightly surprising considering he has never once heard Louis mention them.

“ _Oh_ ,” Harry smiles now that he knows they’re amongst friends. Well, maybe. There’s still something tentative at the surface of the interaction that feels strange for three best mates. Harry soon realizes the cause of such tension when Liam turns his warm gaze on Louis.

“So, we saw your mum a few months ago. She said you were back.”

“Yeah, sh-she told me. And I am,” Louis nods. This is all news to Harry who somehow missed all of this secretive divulging.

“Yeah, we saw her, the girls, and Ernest while we were out shopping one day,” Niall adds. “They told us about the baby. Congrats, by the way. That’s amazing, Lou.”

Liam nods in agreement. “We tried texting and calling you a couple of times, but we figured you might’ve gotten a new phone or something,” he says with a polite shrug, but Niall’s words are tinged with hurt.

“Yeah, but then we talked to your mum again and she said you _hadn’t_.”

Silence; from Niall, Liam, and mostly Louis who looks like he wants to sink through the floor.

“Well, the phone thing obviously wasn’t working, so we thought about maybe stopping by to see you instead,” Liam says with a chastising look at Niall. “But, we didn’t want to bother you, so.”

The things they’re not saying are almost palpable.

It’s pretty clear that Louis has been ignoring them for at least nine months from the sound of it, possibly for longer. Louis doesn’t say anything for a long time, eventually giving his friends an explanation as to why he cut them out of his life.

“I- I didn’t know what to say about having to come back home or how to tell you about _this_ ,” he says, gesturing to his belly that’s so big it’s brushing the table’s edge. “I felt stupid enough about my big move to Leeds blowing up in my face and then I found out I was pregnant on top of all that, and I just- I don’t know,” Louis finishes with a frustrated huff. “I’m sorry.”

Initially, Harry assumed he had never heard of Liam and Niall because Louis wanted to keep his private life private; to hide his best friends away from someone who wasn’t going to stick around anyway, but really, Louis has been hiding himself from _them_.

“You think we actually care about any of that shit?” Niall frowns. “You’re our best friend. And fuck Leeds. It’s dumb anyway.”

Louis smiles at that, snorting a bit at Niall’s proclamation that Harry also really disagree with since Leeds wasn’t particularly kind to him either.

“Yeah, Louis, we weren’t trying to come over and judge you or whatever is it you were scared of,” Liam assures him. “We just missed you and we were really excited you’re back. We still are.”

“ _And_ we got your kid all kinds of cool baby stuff we wanted to show you! I picked out this golfing shirt with mini golf clubs on it like mine. You know the one,” Niall smirks. “It’s so fucking cute. The little mate’s going to love it.”

“Ryan,” Louis corrects his friend through a fresh laugh. “Ryan’s going to love it. And I can’t believe you two actually went _baby_ shopping. What on Earth was that like?” 

“What do you think?” Liam mutters with a glance over at Niall scrolling through his phone to show Louis said golf shirt.

An hour later and their date is still in full swing plus two more people now sitting at their booth. It’s nice getting to meet more important people in Louis’ life, even better getting to see Liam, Niall, and Louis interact and for them prove to Louis that despite their time apart, not much between them has changed. The three of them were basically walking on eggshells with one another at the start of the night so Harry found it hard to believe they’ve been best friends for as long as they say. That façade quickly fades though and suddenly they’re laughing and bickering and laughing again like only true best friends can.

They order more pizza which Louis wants absolutely nothing to do with once he hears Liam added avocado to it, inspiring a fresh rant on ruining perfectly good food. He wouldn’t eat a slice of that if someone paid him to, so he and Harry skip it. They move onto dessert instead, the two of them sharing a giant bowl of mint chocolate chip before wishing Louis’ friends goodnight and heading home.

On the walk back, Harry slips his hand into Louis’, grinning even wider than he had been when he feels Louis’ thumb drawing lazy patterns across his. He can also feel Louis stealing curious glances over at him and his wide grin each time Harry steals a glance at him.

“ _What_?” Louis chuckles when his curiosity finally gets the better of him. “You’ve been smirking like that since we started walking. What, do I have ice cream dried to my face or something? Pizza sauce on my shirt?” Louis looks down at his belly in search of such a stain, fondly rolling his eyes after Harry assures him there isn’t one. “Then _what_? Tell me,” he laughs, stopping them beneath a streetlamp. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny, babe. I just keep thinking about something you said tonight.” And clearly, Harry is unable to hide how good it makes him feel.

“Really?” Louis frowns in disbelief. “What did I say?”

“My name,” Harry grins. “My real one, I mean.”

“Noticed that, did you?” Louis smirks back, gently caressing his stomach where someone is currently turning sugar-induced cartwheels. “Well, I wanted to be as honest as I could with them about Ryan’s other dad, and that’s you. Should’ve been from the very start.”

Harry often imagines himself going back in time to when he first got to Leeds, except instead of moving there to start a life with his ex, he moves there with Louis. They’re madly in love just like they claim each time they tell their story, and one day they take that love and create something amazing out of it. And when they find out they’re pregnant Louis is so thrilled and excited that all he wants is to take the next train home to Doncaster to share the news.

It didn’t happen that way of course. The roads they took to one another were much bumpier than that, but that doesn’t make their love, their relationship, or their son any less significant. If anything, Harry believes it to be the exact opposite.

“Come here,” Harry says, leaning down to bring their lips together; the perfect end to the perfect first date. “I love you, you know that, yeah?” Harry says as they start walking again. “I also loved meeting your friends. They’re hilarious.”

Louis rolls his eyes at that. “They’re fucking idiots,” he corrects before grinning. “I love them anyway though. And I’m pretty sure they officially love you more than me,” he teases. “First you hijack my family and now Li and Ni,” he teases with a playful kick to Harry’s shoe. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

“I’m sure I’d have a similar problem after introducing you to my people. My mum already asks about you more than me or anybody else whenever we talk. You’re hard competition,” Harry chuckles, noticing Louis bite down on a slightly embarrassed yet flattered grin. “What? You thought there was a chance that she’s _not_ completely obsessed with the person giving her a grandchild to spoil?”

Louis gives a little shrug that says maybe he did think that. “I wasn’t sure how your family would feel in general; about me and the baby and the fact that you somehow went to Leeds with one boyfriend and left with another.”

Their timeline isn’t something Harry has talked a lot about to his family, because to them it doesn’t matter so long as Harry is happy, and he is. Ridiculously so.

“The only timeline anybody on my end cares about is the one where they get to fight over who’s going to hold the baby first,” Harry assures him. “You and Ryan have got a whole fan-club in Manchester, and my mother is the fucking president.”

That brings the big smile back to Louis’ face which Harry can’t resist pressing a kiss to.

“I want to meet her; everyone,” Louis admits when Harry pulls back. “You’ve met so many important people in my life... I want to do the same for you.”

“And you will, love. They’re all going to be here when the baby comes so you’ll meet them then.” Which Harry realizes might be the problem rather than a solution when Louis’ brow furrows. “You don’t want that to be the first time you meet them.”

“It just seems like bad manners to be like, ‘ _Hey, I’m Louis, oh, and by the way, mind holding the kid I just popped out?’._

“Okay, point taken,” Harry says once they both stop snorting. Maybe it would be a little strange if the first time he’s introducing his family to the love of his life is the same day he’s also introducing them to his son. “Well, I’ll have to check with them but my mum and sister can probably visit sometime this weekend or the next. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“No, let’s go to them. To Manchester,” Louis proposes instead. “They’re already coming all this way for the baby and the plan had been for you to make it back home to see them, but you never did get there. I feel guilty enough stealing you away, and plus, we’ve been here in my hometown and at my house for nearly a year. I want to see yours.” Harry would love nothing more than to show him around the place he grew up. “Oh, come on,” Louis urges with a mischievous grin. “We’ll take a train in for old time’s sake and recreate the day we met by smelling all the booze I still can’t have and snogging against the window.”

“Umm, except that last part didn’t happen,” Harry laughs, his stomach fluttering when Louis counters with ‘ _No, but I sure wanted to_ ’. “A change of scenery could be nice,” Harry decides after giving it a few seconds of thought. “Maybe with _out_ the train part though. Not sure that’s the best idea this late in the game,” he says resting a hand on top of his very pregnant boyfriend’s belly that Dr. Clements estimates will stay that way for another three weeks, but it’s no guarantee.

“We could take my mum’s car for a day; snog in the backseat,” Louis grins, reaching up to pull Harry in by his hoodie strings.

“Why snog in the car when we could just snog in my old room? In my old bed,” Harry hums against his lips, breath catching in his throat when Louis one-ups Harry’s fantasy with ‘ _Why wait to feel me up in your old bed when we’ve got mine right here?_ ’. Louis licks into his mouth and gently nips at his bottom lip until Harry’s brain short-circuits.

“We’re moving a little fast for a first date, aren’t we?” Harry jokes, when he feels a curious hand graze his chest and the waistband of his joggers.

According to Louis, they’re going to be parents in under three weeks so they’re not moving fast enough.

*

Sneaking someone up to his bedroom isn’t something Louis has had much practice with since he was a teenager, and he quickly realizes he’s no better at it now as an adult than he was back then when he and Harry nearly wake up the entire house from giggling at their eager yet cautious trip up the stairs.

“I swear I’m usually much faster than this,” Louis huffs over his shoulder at his boyfriend patiently following behind him.

“Oh, I believe you, babe,” Harry chuckles, not even slightly out of breath after their walk home and now their climb.

“No, seriously,” Louis tells him. “I was really in shape. I had abs in the right light like, two and a half days of the week.”

“What happened the other four and half days?”

“Fucking Sin Shack happened, what else?” Louis pants out causing an unexpected cackle to erupt from directly behind him. “ _Shh! You’re going to wake everyone up!_ ” he hisses even though he’s now laughing just as much.

When they finally reach the top of the stairs they head straight for their bedroom where Harry opens the door for him like he has done all night in the name of first date chivalry. That all flies out the window the moment they enter the room and the kiss Louis initiates turns heated before the door closes behind them.

They’ve been officially together for months now, but getting to kiss Harry whenever and wherever he wants is still such a fucking rush. Having Harry’s hands on him the moment they hit the bed is better and more intoxicating than any Merlot Louis has ever had, and the feeling just makes Louis crave his touch more.

If this were a year ago and Louis had the pleasure of being in his bedroom with the most gorgeous person on the planet, by now, he’d already be naked and riding him until neither of them could see straight. However, things are a little different now with Louis’ belly getting in the way no matter which way they lie in bed, Louis being so turned on after nine months of nothing that he’s straining against his joggers, and his mind going insane wondering if Harry wants him in this moment as much as he wants Harry.

The passionate way Harry kisses him says yes. So does the pounding of Harry’s heart when Louis lays a hand over his chest to feel it. That’s why Louis is so confused when he sits up to begin removing his clothes and his boyfriend doesn’t start doing the same.

“What? What’s wrong?” Louis pauses mid-strip, suddenly worried he jumped the gun in thinking all their kissing and touching was leading somewhere else. Maybe Harry hadn’t meant them to go that far tonight or any night while Louis is still pregnant. Them having sex wouldn’t bother Louis a bit, but they’ve never really talked about it. Louis guesses maybe they should have so he wouldn’t feel as stupid and self-conscious as he does realizing that for right now, his boyfriend isn’t interested in him that way.

“Sorry,” Louis apologizes as he works to pull his clothes back on, but he’s stopped by a gentle hand on his forearm and a pair of green eyes so intently focused on him that they send little sparks down Louis’ spine.

“No, don’t,” he begs.

It takes Louis a moment to understand exactly what Harry means by that, finally getting it when he glances over and realizes his boyfriend is just as hard as he is. Harry wasn’t keeping his clothes on because he isn’t interested in sex, it was because he was enjoying watching Louis take his off. So, Louis continues undressing himself in front of his one-man audience, successfully removing his shirt and then his joggers until there’s nothing but him left on top of the bed.

It feels a little weird being this naked in front of someone for longer than just the blink of an eye. That’s all Harry ever sees of his body and generally it’s accidental like when Louis is changing and forgets to lock the door, and yet, Harry still marvels at every inch of Louis’ skin. It’s as if he’s never seen it before when he lies Louis down in the center of the bed to acquaint his mouth with each part of him, making Louis bite back involuntary sounds each time Harry drags his teeth along his flesh.

All of this feels like unfamiliar territory after being single and feeling so unlike himself for so long, but it’s gradually coming back to Louis with each touch.

He’s nervous when Harry strips out of his clothes too and opens him up, but he quickly realizes he didn’t have to be when Harry is so gentle that Louis sighs in content at the feeling of his fingers. He has the same realization when he lowers himself down onto Harry’s lap until his back is flush with Harry’s chest and Harry fucks him so deeply that they both come within minutes.

Harry asks him if he’s okay as he leaves kisses along the back of Louis’ neck. It’s a genuine question to make sure the ragged, choked-off sound Louis made as he spilled over both of their laps was a good one. It was. It was so good Louis wonders how the hell they managed to hold out for so long.

“Was it okay?” Harry checks. “I didn’t hurt you or the baby, did I?”

“No, Haz. You didn’t.” The only thing that hurts in this moment is knowing what they’re going to be missing once the baby is born and the four to six week dry-spell that will follow. It might as well be another nine months.

Louis’ legs are still shaky when he stands up to face Harry and kiss him with as much love and tenderness as he just showed, hoping his boyfriend is okay with making up lost time as Louis pushes him back onto the mattress and straddles his hips to initiate round two out of as many rounds they can fit between now and their due date.


	11. Chapter 11

As decided on their first date, three days later they set off for their first trip to Manchester. Just Harry, Louis, and their soon-to-be-born son, who lately has been giving his dad a lot more trouble than usual. The distance between their hometowns is relatively short, but the trip feels almost double due to their frequent pit stops due to Ryan sitting directly on top of Louis’ bladder. He complains about back pain from time to time and he’s tired a lot after trying to find a good sleeping position where his stomach doesn’t put a strain on anything or make him feel suffocated. Dr. Clements says that at this point, the baby is about as big as it’s going to get so now it’s just a waiting game for them and their families, and a matter of making Louis as comfortable as possible. Right now, that means Harry following the directions of the GPS at the lowest volume possible so his boyfriend can catch up on some much-needed rest in the passenger’s seat.

From the looks of it, Ryan has settled down from earlier when he was visibly kicking around beneath Louis’ shirt. With one hand dutifully holding the steering wheel Harry rests his free hand over Louis’ stomach for a quick assessment.

He can’t feel any movement which means Ryan is most likely sleeping as well; resting up for the next time he decides to turn cartwheels in a space that gets smaller and smaller the longer he’s in there. Harry can’t imagine feeling the baby’s every move, but he knows at some point it became more uncomfortable for Louis than exciting because it happens all day and sometimes all night. To quote Louis, ‘Ryan’s lease is up and eviction time is here,’ but as much as Louis is ready for Ryan to get out, Harry is just as anxious because he can’t wait to meet him.

It takes longer than they anticipated, but eventually they arrive at a house where Harry’s mother and sister already waiting for them at the front door before he and Louis even make it out of the car.

“You _sure_ you’re ready for this?” Harry chuckles as they make their way up the drive to the two women waving like mad and the other half dozen people now filling the doorway including Harry’s grandmother who has been complaining of not yet being a great-grandmother for a decade.

“I’m sure,” Louis smiles looking more certain than ever when he’s welcomed inside the house and embraced by each person as if he has been there a million times before.

Harry’s mother is so excited to meet him she’s wiping away tears when they pull apart, and Harry’s sister who usually displays a rather composed demeanor around new people, doesn’t hold back at all as tells Louis he is without a doubt the single best thing to ever happen to her annoying little brother.

“I think that goes both ways,” Harry overhears his boyfriend say, his heart so full it’s bursting when their gazes lock over the crowd and Harry feels just how truly lucky they are.

An hour later, Harry is fondly rolling his eyes with his cheeks so red they’re hot as he’s forced to endure the same torture that Louis did months ago; embarrassing childhood stories about himself and grainy photos to go with them.

For some reason there is photographic evidence of Harry eating a banana while wearing cowboy boots only, crying because Gemma refused to sit next to him, crying because Gemma sat too close to him, and then there’s one magical photo of him running around in a stolen bra. Louis laughs harder than Harry has ever seen as he flips through Harry’s childhood. And Harry isn’t quite as amused as everyone else, but he is happy to see Louis already fitting in so well with his family; _Louis’_ family now too, he supposes. Harry certainly counts the Tomlinsons as part of his.

All of the excitement and laughter paired with the constant battle for space between his bladder and the tiny human Louis is carrying forces him to excuse himself between family photo albums. Harry’s family members converge on him the moment they hear the bathroom door open and shut.

“He is fantastic, and so handsome!” his mother exclaims as quietly as she can manage without yelling. “No wonder you were over in Doncaster all that time before telling us about him. You were keeping him all to yourself!”

No, it was more like Harry was coming to terms with accidently falling in love with his friend and becoming a dad to someone he also loves, but sure. He’ll let his mother go with that theory.

“Are you two planning to settle here, Doncaster, or will you go back to Leeds?” Harry’s Grandmother asks which is really her way of asking how often she’ll get to spoil the baby once he’s here.

“Er- Well, we’re not sure ultimately,” Harry admits, suddenly realizing that the two of them being all in with this means them building a life together, so they’ll have to pick a city at some point. “I think for now, we’re going to stay with Louis’ family. My job’s there now and Louis’ probably will be too. His mum’s a pediatric nurse and he has a lot of siblings who are all eager to help out as much as they can, but we’ll visit here a lot and you all are always welcome to visit us too.” A fairly diplomatic answer that seems to please everyone. “Don’t forget, you’ll also be there when Ryan is born as well.”

That puts a smile on every face that Harry sees and sends the volume of the room soaring as the chatter turns to their rapidly-approaching due date.

It makes Harry smile to hear everyone so excited to welcome the new member of their family. It also makes him glance at the spot Louis had been sitting in and realize he’s been gone for quite a while.

After another couple of minutes pass, Harry dismisses himself as well to go check on him.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells everyone who hardly even blinks when he heads off in the direction of the same bathroom Louis went to.

“Lou? Babe, are you alright?” Harry asks through the door. He can tell instantly that he’s not even before Louis croaks out a painful ’ _no_ ’.

Harry opens the door so fast he nearly hits Louis with it where he’s sitting at the edge of the tub and gripping its ledge so hard his hands are shaking.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Harry asks followed by an even more panicked question. “Is it the baby? Are-Are you having contractions?”

“ _N_ o,” Louis answers sharply, caving within a matter of seconds under Harry’s skeptical gaze. “Okay, maybe. Okay, yes,” he admits, and suddenly Harry can’t stop smiling or stop adrenaline from rushing through his veins, even if all of this is happening a bit earlier than expected.

“Holy shit, we’ve got to go! We have to get you to a hospital like right now!” he exclaims, his bright smile switching to a deep frown when his boyfriend instantly rejects the idea.

“No, call Dr. Clements and tell her we’re on the way,” Louis says as if that makes a bit of sense.

“But...she’s in Doncaster and we’re in Manchester. I know having the baby here wasn’t exactly the plan but she did say it could happen at any time and there are other doctors, love.” That’s why they brought the hospital bag with them and Harry told Jay that even though they should be back tonight that she should be on standby with her sister’s vehicle just in case.

However, none of that is what Louis wants to hear.

“But, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” Louis complains. “If this baby has stayed put for nine fucking months it can stay put for another few hours until we get back home,” he claims, his whole body tensing as he experiences another contraction. That’s at least two in under twenty minutes. At this point, there’s only a slim chance they’d make it back to Doncaster without Ryan being born in the back of Jay’s car.

Harry sits down next to Louis who isn’t really angry, just scared. He rubs Louis’ back and allows his hand to be squeezed until the fresh wave of pain ends. Afterwards Louis is a bit more reasonable, probably realizing the same thing as Harry; they don’t have time for their original plan, but honestly, it’s not the first time that plan B will have turned out to be better than their plan A. Had things turned out the way they were supposed to, he and Louis may never have even met let alone becoming parents today. Fuck plans ss far as Harry is concerned, because their alternatives are pretty great too, sometimes even life changing.

That night, Louis and Harry take turns holding their new son who was born in Manchester at the delivery unit of St. Mary’s hospital to two proud parents who couldn’t be more in awe of him. Not quite according to plan, but somehow none of that matters with the beautiful little boy yawning up at them after his very eventful and busy first day on Earth.

“He’s so cute,” Gemma gushes when it’s her turn to hold Ryan again. “I can’t believe how tiny he is.”

“I can’t believe how beautiful his eyes are. Just like his dad’s,” Jay grins, turning her gaze from Ryan to Harry who hasn’t stopped smiling since the moment Ryan first looked at him and he saw the makings of light green; a happy coincidence that Harry’s genetics had absolutely nothing to do with, but that’s just one more thing that doesn’t matter because Harry is Ryan’s dad whether they share DNA or not.

“I guess I always did have a thing for beautiful green eyes. They’ve been known to get me into all sorts of trouble,” Louis smirks, referencing his idiot ex who had to have won Louis over somehow. Harry has always wondered about that. But, thankfully, Louis’ ex had an eye color that works _for_ their lie rather than against it.

“Well, maybe you’ll manage to stay _out_ of trouble from now on with Ryan and me around,” Harry jokes back.

“I think he’ll have his hands pretty full with Ryan and... _Harry_ , right?” Lottie checks as the baby is carefully handed off to her and then pass back to his parents.

“Er-Right,” Harry confirms. “Or H still. Whichever you prefer,” Harry nervously chuckles and shrugs the same as he did earlier when he answered to his mother calling him Harry. He had to come up with something and fast, so the official story is that he doesn’t always like his actual name, so he sometimes experiments with others. Hendrix and Harold are just playful extensions of Harry, but apparently, people still can’t decide which name they prefer as another interesting debate on the subject breaks out in the room.

“ _H._ Everybody just call him _H_ ,” Louis rolls his eyes for what must be the hundredth time since they signed Ryan’s birth certificate.

“Wait, _everybody_?” Harry grins down at their sleepy son cradled in Louis’ arms.

“Everybody except for Ryan, of course,” Louis smiles quietly. “He gets to call you the _best_ name of them all.”

Yeah _. Dad_.


	12. Chapter 12

_Eleven years later_

“Come on, Sadie, just have a little bit of yogurt. Just two spoonfuls,” Louis bargains. However, his daughter turns her head at the sight of it. “One spoonful?” he tries but Sadie rejects that too, much happier playing with the slices of banana his husband didn’t have much luck with either. “Not gonna happen tonight, is it?”

His almost three-year-old answers him with a banana covered hand over his mouth and then his nose. It’s slimy, but it’s more in character for her than her lack of an appetite which took a dive earlier in the week due to an ear infection. She’s feeling a lot better now like the doctor said she would, but she’s still not eating very much. Maybe Louis should call his mum later. She always knows the best tricks to help in these situations and plus, he they haven’t chatted in about a week so they’re overdue for a Leeds/Donnie catch up.

“Alright, I quit. You win,” Louis announces, fondly rolling his eyes as he lifts Sadie out of her high chair and she rubs salt in his would by excitedly repeating the last word he said over and over again. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Louis laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of her curly head.

With a hazel-eyed weight attached to his right hip, Louis makes his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs where his other troublemaker should be getting ready for bed like Harry asked him to half an hour ago. _Should_ being the key word there.

Louis stops along the way to pick up toys he missed earlier in the post-dinner cleanup including Sadie’s stuffed cow Moo-Moo whom she refuses to sleep without. There’s a bright light visible beneath Ryan’s door, meaning he’s still up just as Louis suspected. Probably up doing school work Louis supposes, and is proved right when he pokes his head into Ryan’s tidy room to find him sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed with multiple books and a giant poster board spread before him.

“Word on the street is someone’s bedtime is rapidly approaching,” Louis announces from the doorway as Sadie tries her best to wiggle free.

“I know, I know,” his son sighs over his school project that’s not due for another two weeks, breaking his concentration to blink up at Louis through his thin-framed glasses. “How much time do I have?”

“Six minutes and twenty-three seconds,” Louis informs him after a quick consultation with his phone that gets banana smeared all over the front of it as Sadie’s attention moves from escaping his grip to playing with that instead.

The time Ryan has left is hardly even enough time to clean all this up, let alone make it to bed. Ryan must realize this too going off of the adorable little wince he makes.

“Er... can I have ten more minutes?” he asks with his most dazzling smile. He totally learned that trick from Harry.

“Five.”

“Nine?”

“Five,” Louis maintains, managing to not laugh when Ryan sighs in defeat.

“Okay,” he mutters as he goes back to labeling his intricate diagram for photosynthesis instead of labeling the family tree he _should_ be working on.

“Love, do you have another science project due?” Louis frowns.

“Nope,” Ryan chirps. “Just this one.”

“Did your teacher change the assignment?”

“Well, I asked if some people could do their projects on different things if we had other ideas... she didn’t say _no_ ,” his son explains carefully with his eyes trained on his poster.

“Ry, why didn’t you want to do the family tree like the rest of the class?” Things have been a little crazy lately. With work and school stuff and Sadie feeling ill, he and Harry were bound to miss a few things, but an entire project?

Ryan blinks up from his project with those big green eyes of his filled with guilt and looking like they’re carrying the weight of the world when he finally answers with ‘ _Because I knew mine would only be half right’_.

_Oh._

Nothing prepares Louis for the sick, sinking feeling in his gut, or the way his chest tightens like there’s no more oxygen left in the world. He bends to place Sadie down on the floor like she wanted, but only because his hands are shaking so hard he’s scared he’ll drop her.

“Sweetheart, what-what do you mean?” Louis asks him in as normal of a tone as he can manage with his heartrate climbing with each passing second.

Louis promised himself and Ryan long ago that when this moment happened, he’d approach it with honesty; he’d own up to his choices and tell his son the truth no matter how much Louis wishes there wasn’t a truth to tell. If this is that moment, then Louis intends to keep that promise.

“Tell me what you mean, love. I-I promise I won’t be mad. You can talk to me,” he adds when Ryan skeptically raises an eyebrow at the idea of saying more than he already has.

The silent stare-off between the two of them stretches for a couple of minutes before Ryan speaks up again.

“...I know dad isn’t my real dad. I mean he _is_ , but you know... not really,” he says quietly as if Harry can hear him from wherever he is in the house.

Louis’ stomach doesn’t sink any further at his admission, but his heart still feels heavy as he processes the fact that his son knows.

“And what makes you say that?” Louis asks. “D-Did he say something or did somebody else? One of your aunts? Somebody from school?”

“No,” Ryan mutters where he’s distractedly picking at his hands. “Nobody told me anything. I already knew.” So Ryan claims, but Louis still finds it hard to wrap his head around.

“How?” Louis asks him. Not that it matters, but Louis is rather curious as to how their eleven-year-old figured out something that no one else in their family or friend circle ever has.

“Because of my blood type. Yours and dad’s are both Type A and so is Sadie’s. That means mine would have to be too, or it could be Type O. But it’s Type B, and that’s impossible.”

Louis has no clue if it’s possible or not. Their different blood types isn’t something he’s ever thought about too deeply or at all. He’s always just grateful his children are healthy.

“I know you’re brilliant and all, Ry, but how on Earth do you know everyone’s blood type?”

Apparently, little things like blood types are easy to pick up from organ donor registration cards that he and Harry both have and also regular doctor’s visits. And when that fails, unsuspecting grandmothers, one of which is a registered nurse, who can aid in your investigation and tell you everything about everyone if you ask the right questions.

“What even made you question who your dad is in the first place?”

“A book that had a section on family traits,” Ryan shrugs as if it should be obvious.

Sold out by a fucking book. The simplicity of it all.

“Who gave it to you?”

“Nobody?” Ryan frowns. “It was in the library.”

“Oh. Right...” Louis forgot cities have those and some people actually use them. His son the science lover and his husband the bookworm are obviously frequent visitors.

For a long time, Louis isn’t sure what to say, clearing his throat and fussing with the chipped paint in the doorframe where he and Harry have been charting Ryan’s height since the day he could stand up on his own. Harry, the person who still stands in this doorway almost every night just watching their son breathe after doing the same thing with their daughter just next door; the person who without even being asked, helped give Ryan a full life that Louis couldn’t have given him alone. Not back when Louis hadn’t even figured out the direction his own life was heading.

“I- I’m sure you have questions.” Ryan must have millions. Louis can’t understand how he’s been able to keep them to himself all this time. “Love, why didn’t you bring it up when you found out?” Louis is an adult and he wouldn’t be able to cope with a secret like that, and yet his eleven-year-old son hardly seems bothered by it.

“Well, you’ve never lied to me before, so I knew if you lied about my real dad then it had to be for a really good reason,” he explains.

It _was_ for a good reason. Louis lied to everyone because he knew his son deserved better than some idiot who walked out before ever knowing him. He deserved someone who loved him unconditionally and with all his heart; someone who loved Louis and now Sadie just as much.

“I can tell you about your real dad if you want me to, but... I’ve got to be honest, I don’t know much.” Louis hasn’t seen or heard from his ex since the day he fled Leeds like it was on fire. Leeds isn’t that big and he and Harry have been back for years now without ever running into him, so he’s long gone.

“...I think I don’t want to know,” Ryan confidently decides after giving it some thought. “Dad’s really my dad anyway, right?” he chirps. “Our blood’s just a little different.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Louis smiles. “You’ve got the same eyes though.” Both of their eyes are so radiantly green and beautiful that it’s a wonder they aren’t biologically related. “Your dad loves you more than anything, Ryan. We both do.”

Ryan nods and rolls his eyes at that information like it’s old news, but he smiles all the same when Louis crosses the distance between them and pulls him into a hug so tight it makes him laugh and squirm to get away.

“Alright, you. Ten more minutes and then lights out,” Louis says when he can finally bring himself to let go of his eldest who gasps when he realizes he’s been given extra time.

“Really? But you said five before.”

The boy just revealed his own paternity fraud. He could ask for five hours and Louis would allow it. “Changed my mind,” Louis grins before pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. He’s just about to leave the room and head off in search of his daughter who is without doubt causing chaos somewhere when he’s stopped by a request so soft he nearly misses it.

“I know you know that I know now, but- can you please not tell Dad yet? Please?” Ryan begs, nervously chewing at his bottom lip as he awaits Louis’ answer. “I don’t want him to be mad. We’re supposed to go to the new science museum on Saturday and he said it could be a just me and him day.”

Louis’ heart warms hearing how after everything Ryan knows, he still just wants to be close to his favorite person in the world. Harry and their son have been best mates forever. It’s nice to know that won’t be changing any time soon.

“I promise you he won’t be mad. But sure, love,” Louis grins. “I won’t say anything tonight. You have my word.”

His word doesn’t mean much to the rest of the world, but to his son, it’s everything as he sighs in relief.

It doesn’t take long for Louis to find Sadie. He simply follows the trail of banana handprints along the walls to his bedroom. She’s cuddled next Harry on the bed, flipping through one of her partially scribbled in coloring books while Harry flips through the novel he’s been reading the past few nights. It’s a scene Louis walks in on from time to time and it makes his heart feel so full it’s nearly overflowing. The same thing happens whenever they have family movie nights and Louis glances over to find Harry more captivated by their kids snoring against them than whatever’s playing on the screen, or whenever they all go out together and Harry just looks so proud of their little family.

Ryan should be in bed by now, so Sadie is well past her bedtime. Getting her to eat something was the only reason they kept her up, and at some point they will get her to sleep. But, for right now, all Louis wants to do is kiss his incredible husband and appreciate just how lucky they were to wind up on the same train all those years ago. 

“ _Mmm_ ,” Harry hums in approval against him. “What was that for?”

“Nothing. Just because,” Louis smiles. “And also for helping me raise a pretty amazing yet scarily brilliant little boy.”

“ _Right_?” Harry snorts. “Did _you_ know photosynthesis isn’t just a plant thing, because _I_ certainly didn’t. Hands-down, the coolest thing I learned all week.”

Actually, no, Louis didn’t know that. But the fact that Ryan does just further convinces him that he isn’t anything like his biological dad. Instead, he’s going to grow up to be kind-hearted, giving, selfless, and a complete nerd like his father who gets excited about slugs performing photosynthesis and gets genuinely upset if you tell him any of the crossword answers on Sundays.

“I love you,” Louis whispers because, truthfully, he doesn’t say it enough. “Ryan loves you too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry chuckles with a furrowed brow. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“Because I need to tell you something important, but not tonight,” Louis grins, quickly reassuring his husband before his mind starts to spin. “Everything’s fine. We’re fine. I just made a promise to someone that we’d talk _after_ this Saturday.”

Apparently, their son isn’t the only one excited for this weekend when Harry’s eyes light up.

“You mean museum day?” Harry grins. “They just remodeled the dinosaur wing and got new exhibits so it’s nearly _twice_ the size it used to be! Do you want to go too? Er- I kind of told Ryan it could just be us, but I’m sure he won’t mind if everyone wants to come...”

Little does Harry know, Ryan is looking forward to their quality time just as much as Harry is and Louis would never want to get in the way of that. Or be that much of a fucking nerd.

“Well, new old dinosaurs are certainly tempting, but I think I’ll pass on this one,” Louis teases. “You two have fun.”

“You think it’s lame,” Harry laughs.

Louis _knows_ it’s lame, but that’s the beauty of their kids having Harry as a dad. Whether it’s nerdy or not, Harry’s going to show up, he’s going to be more excited than any other parent there, and he’ll love every second of it because he loves them. That’s everything Louis ever wanted and more.

***

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for subscribing to this if you did and for reading it!
> 
> Thanks so much to Lynda and Tabby for reading over this monster while I wrote it because in my mind, this was a 20-25k fic but we're not going to talk about that XD
> 
> Please share this  
> [ fic post](https://all-these-larrythings.tumblr.com/post/187162987851/if-i-stay-37k-by-rearviewdreamer-harry-and-louis) if you liked it <3


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